The First Quarter Quell
by RipredIsAwesome
Summary: There are plenty of stories on the second and fourth Quarter Quells, but what about the first? Rated T because of swearing and probably because of violence...it is a Hunger Games story after all.
1. Chapter 1

**RipredIsAwesome**: Well, here's my attempt at a Hunger Games story. It probably won't be as good as my SSB fic for a while, but it'll get better, trust me. Especially this chapter, it's probably rushed a lot. And for anyone who is reading my SSB fic, I haven't given up on it yet. I just need the TV for quite a while and I can't get a chance to not have my brother around long enough.

**Mewtwo: **_you had better hurry up on that. I really feel like beating the crap out of Tabuu._

**RipredIsAwesome: **Shut up Mewtwo! Well, anyway, here's the first chapter and...Mewtwo here to do the Disclaimer.

**Mewtwo: **RipredIsAwesome does not own the Hunger Games. If she did, this story would probably be better.

**RipredIsAwesome: **I hate you Mewtwo. I really do.

* * *

Chapter One

It was an unusual day when I woke up. I say it was unusual because it was the very first Quarter Quell, twenty five years since the districts rebelled. Our President – President Alexander Snow – had said when he and his Capitol men created the Hunger Games that every twenty five years, there was a thing called a "Quarter Quell." This is where it's the Hunger Games, which is horrible enough, but with a twist. The first Quarter Quell had been announced that the people of our district will actually _vote _for who they want to give the death penalty. I say the death penalty because well…I live in the poorest district of all, District Twelve. We have yet to actually win a Hunger Games; in fact we're normally out shortly after the bloodbath at the Cornucopia. I'm still not exactly sure what we do for mentors, maybe it's our escorts, but I doubt it.

Oh, I nearly forgot. I'm Zaria Winters from District Twelve. I don't have the dark complexion of the Seam, nor do I have the merchant's look of the blonde hair, blue eyes (even though I am a merchant's daughter). My hair is a moderate brown color, slightly dark skin but it looks like it has been tanned than anything else, and dark blue eyes. My mother says that our family came from District Thirteen and because District Twelve was (and still is) one of the few overfilled districts, they stuck us here. The other options would have been Districts Six and Seven. The rest are very large districts, but they truly need the labor force.

Well, back to our main topic. Today was the Reaping for the Quarter Quell, or, the vote for the Quarter Quell. I looked around my house for something nice to wear and after some time, find a navy blue dress and slip it on. It fit quite nicely and went well with the fact that my family came from District Thirteen, especially when you consider that District Thirteen consisted of areas of Northeastern Panem, not to the point where you were freezing the entire time, but to the point where winters were very cold. Then I walked out towards the Justice Building, where the Reaping was being held and went to the penned off fifteen year old section where I met up with a friend of mine, Devitan Waters. Devitan – or as I called her, Devi – was a merchant's girl with their classic blonde hair look, or at least for the most part. Her hair had streaks of a light red going through, which was extremely unusual for a merchant's girl. Particularly once you figure out she hates the Capitol and that the hair is natural. We talked for quite a bit, not completely about girl stuff, but about other things. The big topic was about who was probably going to get voted to go into the deadly Games as a tribute to die.

"It'll be a merchant's child. Or anyone with more money than Seam kids," Devi said. This made sense; the Seam population outnumbered the merchant population about two to one.

"But it could also be someone who everyone thinks actually has a chance this year," I pointed out. Devi rolled her eyes.

"District Twelve never has a chance," she said. I stopped talking, but for two reasons. One, Mayor Therwaker had taken the stage for the usual Treaty of Treason that I've heard most of my life. Two, Devi had made an excellent point. Saying District Twelve has a chance for a change hasn't happened once. We haven't won any Hunger Games yet, but who knows? Anything can change.

First, our Capitol escort took the stage. Her name was Palina Hart. She had to be the only escort who had altered herself so much. Palina had her teeth altered to give herself fangs like a vampire, but with golden tips on them, had bluish skin and glittery, purple eye shadow, her eyes were a light pink, her hair had rigid, blood red curls everywhere, she had fake whiskers next to her nose and bright red lips that didn't match anything except the hair. And then there was the outfit. Palina decided to wear an outfit made purely out of palm leaves that barley covered anything past the waist and gigantic heels that were a dark blue. At least she wasn't a stylist for District Twelve and just our escort. That would be torture for anyone.

"Hello there District Twelve!" she said in that annoying Capitol voice. I swear she's had it altered, even the Capitol isn't that high pitched. "Are you ready for an exciting Hunger Games?" There wasn't much response from the crowd, but this didn't stop Palina. "That's grrreat! Mayor Therwaker, can you please hand me the card that holds the boy's and girl's name from the card?" Mayor Therwaker walked over to Palina holding a manila folder in his left hand. Palina swiped the folder from his hand and opened it, examining who it was before she called them out. Those thirteen words she said I still wished I never heard in my life. They haunted me throughout my life, in my dreams and in my waking life. Palina waved the card happily as she exclaimed:

"Ladies and Gentlemen, our first person voted is none other than Zaria Winters!"


	2. Chapter 2

**RipredIsAwesome: **Alright, here's chapter two for everyone reading this story. This is basically the start of when I really knew how I wanted this to go (the first chapter was more of an intro than anything else) and because I want to make this into a 3 part series, it'll start hinting about the next part, just not a whole crapload. That'll be chapter four when I really start hinting about that. And this is also when you start to see that even though it's probably way over twenty-five years, they're still using popular phrases like "suck it." :)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Hunger Games. If I did, trust me, the series would probably include way more "hmm, I could put a song to this" moments. But it doesn't, so I don't own the Hunger Games.

* * *

Chapter Two

I wanted to scream, but I didn't. Not now, in front of the cameras. Instead, I walked over to the stage quietly and calmly, already accepting my death. My calmness seemed to shock everyone though, even Palina.

"Zaria Winters everyone! Now, let's see who the male tribute is," Palina said after I walked up to the top of the stage. She studied the card some more and then said:

"Our male tribute is the lovely Renold Yeeser!" I saw Renold walk up, completely unfazed at his calling. Renold was not a merchant's kid, but neither was he a Seam child. He was somewhere in between, really. If you called merchant's kids "rich" and Seam children "poor" he was in that gray area in the middle, something that wasn't really that possible in Panem. I'm still not sure how he pulls it off. Anyway, Renold was of medium height with shaggy dark brown hair and dark green eyes. He was muscular, but not a Career Tribute – or someone who volunteers for the Hunger Games and actually trained for it – strength, the muscles didn't stick out at all. He just looked really, unusually skinny. But aside from his physical and fiscal status, I didn't know anything about him at all. We shook hands and took our seats as the mayor started the next part of the Reaping: the most boring part of all time, also known as the Treaty of Treason.

Mayor Therwaker cleared his throat and read the Treaty that I've heard before. To sum it up, it said that the Hunger Games were punishment for the evil and corrupted rebels and the twelve remaining Districts. It was almost a way of the Capitol telling the Districts to suck it. He finished up the Treaty of Treason and everyone filed out, except me and Renold of course. We got escorted to the Justice Building by Peacekeepers, although I truly wish that wasn't true. The last thing I needed now were Peacekeepers directing me up to a depressing room to watch my family bawl their eyes out. This part would not be televised though, which was quite nice to me. As long as I looked strong when I left here to board the train, it would be all right. I sat down in a purple, velvet couch that sagged in the middle as I waited for my parents. Sure enough, my parents, Shane and Vanessa Winters, came in. Shane had black hair and pale skin with hazel eyes, and Vanessa had the same brown hair and dark blue eyes I did. Vanessa came and gave me a tight hug.

"Oh honey," she said. "I never expected this to happen. We were all expecting a Peacekeeper's child or something like that. I'm so sorry." She let go and I shook my head.

"No, don't be. I see why me and Renold were voted: we're the two most likely to make it through. District Twelve thought with some sense for once," I said. Shane blinked a bit.

"It makes sense," he said, but shook his head. "But still, I don't see why we had to vote. It was bad enough as it was."

"It's only for this year," I said. I hugged them both right before the Peacekeepers came to take them away. "I'll win and come back! I swear to it!" I didn't see what my parents responded, because they were taken away much too quickly. Not much later the door burst open and Devi came in, tears in her eyes. She ran up to me and gave me a bone-crushing hug.

"Oh my gosh! I can't believe you got voted for the Quarter Quell!" she exclaimed as she let go of me.

"Don't worry about it, it'll be fine," I said.

"No! It won't! It just shows that District Twelve doesn't like any family who came from District Thirteen, even if they were born here!" she said.

"No, no, don't you see?" I asked. "District Twelve voted for me because I can fend for myself. So we could have a chance for once. Honestly, no one hates Renold but he got voted." Devi wiped her tears.

"Yeah…that could actually be why," she said. Out of nowhere, she started fumbling with something behind her neck. Then her necklace came off and she put it in my hand.

"What's this?" I asked, then realizing I set myself up for a sarcastic comment added, "Other than a necklace of course."

"It's your district token. I want you to wear it when you're out there, just to show you won't forget all your friends, whether or not you actually die, okay?" Devi said. I grinned and put it on. It was a shark tooth necklace, just like what most people wore in District Thirteen, at least near the coastal area.

"Thanks, I will. And don't worry, I'll come back alive," I said. Devi smiled.

"You had better." There was a loud stomping noise outside the door. "Good bye Zaria Winters and good luck out there." The door opened and three Peacekeepers came in. Two personally escorted Devi out of the Justice Building. The third, a big and burly one with a thick mustache and beard to go with it, spoke to me.

"Miss Winters, you have no more visitors. It's time to enter the train to go to the Capitol," he said in a deep voice. I nodded and left the Justice Building, but not without the never failing Peacekeeper escort, but this time with cameras. I caught a glimpse of Renold as he came into the train also. He hadn't been crying at all either. I noticed that his head was tilted slightly and that the minute I looked directly at his eyes he looked away, his head tilted back towards the front. I didn't think too much about it though, there was enough that already had to be taken in. Rather, I simply headed into the dining car so I could eat. I actually think I haven't had anything to eat at all today. I was starving now.

When I got there, I could honestly say I didn't know what I was expecting. It was a moderate sized dining table with four chairs, but the table was filled with the richest food I have and haven't seen. Perfectly cut steaks, exotic fruits I had no name for, caviar, and a delicious looking lobster sat in front of me, waiting to be eaten. Renold was right behind me and immediately sat down.

"Well? Come on," he said, beckoning me over. I joined him, sitting to the left of Renold. Two people from the Capitol sat in front of us, looking about as different as could be. One was Palina of course, with her bright colors. The only difference was that she was out of the grass dress and now had a silky, bright pink dress on. The next person was a man, medium height but skinny also, with unnaturally black hair. He had quite a bit of black eyeliner and black eye shadow on also, but other than this he was make-up free. He also had a black suit on, which matched the "all black" getup. The only color he had was his tie, but that was still dark red.

"Hello," he said politely. He had an accent, but it was nowhere near the Capitol accent, which was high pitched and held out quite a few of their word phrases, his accent was slightly clipped. "My name is Mathew Pithers. Since District Twelve has no winners yet, well, me and a friend of mine are your mentors." My jaw dropped, assuming he meant Palina.

"You mean Palina?!" I exclaimed. Mathew shook his head.

"No, no, she's not in the dining cart yet," he said. I breathed a sigh of relief. Out of all the people mentoring, Palina would be my last pick. She probably freaks out over the sight of a scab. Renold still wasn't satisfied though.

"What's with the accent? There's no way you're a Capitol person," he said.

"Oh I am, just an area you don't know about," he explained. Renold raised an eyebrow, but didn't ask again. Palina was about to say something now, probably about watching the reruns of the Reaping while we wait for our second mentor, when someone else entered the room. She was also fairly short and had black hair and pale skin. She wore a bit of black eyeliner but not as much as Mathew. The woman also wore a bright green dress that oddly fit well with her.

"Hello," she said in the same accent as Mathew. "I'm Monica Smith, one of your mentors." She noticed Mathew already sitting at the table. "I see you've met Mathew." Mathew, noticing his name being called, gave a small wave. It was when I finally noticed that Monica looked older than Mathew, but not by much. They both had a youth and slight rebellious look in their eyes, but it showed in different ways. I quickly shoved the thought back. I could ask later.

"Well, we were just about to watch the Reaping while we ate," Palina said. "Why don't you pull up a chair and stay?" I noticed that Mathew raised his eyebrows – noticing that there only four chairs in the car – but didn't say anything. Monica however, tried to stay polite.

"Of course Ms. Hart, but there is one problem. There are only four chairs in this area and the nearest chair is in the next car," Monica said. Palina, noticing the problem, got out of her chair.

"I'll just go ask a Capitol worker. I'll be right back!" Palina said and headed off and out of the car. Monica smiled.

"Great. Now that we have her out of here, we'll watch the Reaping to understand your opponents, and figure out what their possible strengths are. Any questions?" Renold stuck his hand halfway in the air in a crude way of showing he had a question.

"Yeah, if you two are so organized and ready, how come District Twelve still hasn't had a winner?" Renold asked.

"Because," Mathew explained, "We're from a very different part of the Capitol Normally you would get two people from the Capitol who doesn't know the first thing about fighting, survival or both. But based on what _President Snow _says, no one wants District Twelve. So he asked us… although not because of our past. That is, if he knows about it." The way he said "President Snow" sounded like a sneer, as if he didn't like the way President was used in his name.

"What about your past?" I asked, immediately biting my lip. That was probably not a question I should have asked. But Monica gave a genuine smile at my question.

"I like your curiousness," she said. "Are you sure you want to know?" I nodded. There had to be a good reason for President Snow to dislike Monica and Mathew.

"It's because Mathew and I fought in the Revolution against the Capitol. We live in such a remote part that we could do whatever we wanted and the Capitol wouldn't care. So, me, Mathew and some of our friends killed the first President; President Blanco. Blanco was President Snow's cousin, so after that, President Snow threatened to personally kill us if we stayed in that area.

"But why didn't you still stay?!" Renold exclaimed.

"Because the threats got worse as we tried to stay, until finally it _was 'Leave or all hopes of the Revolution will be lost, along with your friends.'_ We left then, wanting to keep all the citizens safe, but the next day while we were on the boat, we heard that all of our friends died," Mathew said angrily. "It was all planned out, and we lost all of our friends then. Either that or they're now Avoxes." Monica put a supportive arm on his shoulder.

"Okay, I think that's enough for now. Let's watch the Reaping," she said and grabbed the remote, turning on an overhead television that had just started replaying the District One Reaping. We all got silent and started eating as the Reapings played. District One had two volunteers that both looked like they had seen Death square in the eye and spat in it, District Two had an arrogant male volunteer and a snobby female volunteer, District Three had gotten a tribute who looked like she belonged in a science lab rather than a battlefield and a boy with squarish glasses and pale skin, but there was something about him that made him look intuitive and strangely dangerous at the same time, which I'm still not entirely possible how he pulled it off. District Four had volunteers also, but they looked much weaker than usual, the boy had a scrappy look that Renold had and the girl looked much more like a man than a girl. District Five had a young looking boy and a girl that kind of reminded me of Devi except her hair was much darker. Districts Six, Seven and Nine had a pair of scrawny tributes that didn't look like they could do much. Districts Eight, Ten and Eleven have moderate looking tributes, not too strong but not scrawny and underfed. By the time my home District came on, Palina finally came back in.

"I got a chair!" she said happily. When she heard her own voice on the television, Palina grinned. "So you're watching the Reaping?" Monica nodded.

"Why wouldn't we?" she asked. Palina set the chair down and shrugged.

"President Snow said you would be difficult to work with. I don't know why though," she said. Monica smiled.

"Because the President is worried, me and Mathew make a decent team, after all and well, President Snow is paranoid. But in his position of power, it's probably best to be paranoid. Who knows what kind of death threats he's gotten?" Monica said.

"Of course, that must be it!" Palina said. "So sorry for possibly making you feel, uncomfortable."

"No, it's perfectly fine. Renold, Zaria, why don't you head back and get some rest? Tomorrow's a long day," Mathew said. Renold was about to object when I spoke up.

"Sounds like a good idea, good night," I said and nearly had to drag Renold out of the car and into the sleeping car. By the time we got there, he was ready to explode on me.

"You actually agreed to them?!" he shouted angrily. "Two people that were part of the Revolution?!"

"Yes, but these two might actually give us a shot at winning the Hunger Games! I say we listen to them. Besides, if it wasn't for them I wouldn't have been able to realize I have a chance," I said.

"But they're dangerous! President Snow doesn't trust them!" he pointed out.

"President Snow doesn't trust anyone outside of the damn, hellish Capitol!" I exclaimed. "They're better then Snow and they're probably the best mentors District Twelve has had yet so just shut up and let them help us, okay?" Renold scowled at me but rather than continuing the argument, he just stormed off into his room to sulk. I went to my room also and changed out of my dress and into some silky pajamas from the Capitol, then went to bed. Mathew was right, tomorrow was going to be a long day…a very long day indeed.


	3. Chapter 3

**RipredIsAwesome: **Here's the next chapter! Can't say too much about this, I don't really know what to. Oh wait...I did include a song in here, but that's because I'm a music freak :). Like all the Green Day references (for over forshadowing) that's coming up in the next chapter...but that's coming up. But other than that, I think that's it. Here you go!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Hunger Games. Or All American Rejects. That would be pretty awesome if I did, but I don't. Just sayin'

Chapter 3

The next day I walked into the dining car for breakfast immediately, not bothering to change out of my pajamas yet. I walked in and found Renold – already dressed – eating some pancakes, along with Mathew and Monica, but both were still in nightclothes, and mostly talking to themselves. The only person missing was Palina, who was probably still asleep.

"Hello Zaria," Monica said, taking a minute to stop talking to Mathew. "Have a nice rest?"

"Yes," I answered curtly as I took my seat and sat down. Mathew and Monica were talking intently to each other for a minute, but in hushed whispers I couldn't hear.

"What's going on?" I asked Renold. He snorted.

"Like I know!" he said. "I've heard a couple mentions about music, but that's it."

"Music? You don't mean like that garbage from the Capitol, right?" I asked. Capitol music, aside from the stuff that they call "classical" is horrible, possibly the most propaganda someone can ever hear in three to four minutes. Suddenly, Monica grabs the remote to the television, hits a couple buttons and music, totally different than the Capitol crap, comes on.

"What did you do…?" Renold asked.

"Not much," Monica said. "Actually, I'm not too sure. But we've been missing our ability to listen to anything in our part of town, unlike the rest of Panem. It's probably a good idea to listen to some of this though."

"Why?" I asked.

"Remember, the Capitol thought up of the Hunger Games and its Quarter Quell. If you manage to see some of the things that pretty much everyone had before Panem – shown partly by where we lived–it'll be easier to kill people in the arena," Mathew said.

"How?" Renold asked.

"You just imagine everyone you kill is part of the Capitol," Monica said bluntly. Everyone fell silent for a second and I figured out she had a point. I haven't killed anything in my life at all, but this would be the one way I could. Mathew turned up the music and some announcer started talking in a much different accent than anyone here.

"This is quite the old show," Renold said as he looked at the screen. "2009. That's almost a century old."

"And?" Mathew asked. "Listen for a minute, just to the song."

"And here's the new hit by All American Rejects and their music video to go with it!" the announcer said. The screen faded and suddenly it went to a man with black hair coming out of bed. He started singing, not too fast, and not too slow.

_I wake up every evening, with a big smile on my face, and it never feels out of place.  
And you're still probably working, at a nine to five pace, and I wonder how bad that tastes. _

_When you see my face hope it gives you – _

"What in the President's name are you letting the children listening to?!" Palina said, suddenly coming in. She had apparently re-dyed her hair, it was now dark blue and her lips were ice blue to go with it. She had two cucumbers on her eyes and a green face mask on. Palina wasn't even really wearing anything, just a fluffy pink robe. Monica rolled her eyes.

"Do you want them to win or not?" she asked. I swear Palina was about to say no when Renold added:

"If District Twelve wins, you'll be an escort to a different District." Suddenly Palina's face changed (I think, the mask makes it hard to tell).

"Right! Go ahead!" Palina said.

"Well, anyway," Mathew said. "Let's see what you can do." He gave me a steak knife.

"What's this for?" I asked.

"Throw it, let's see how good you are with your knife throwing," he said. I gripped the knife, drew my arm back and threw it, feeling the object leave my hand. It made a banging noise and stuck to wood on the wall surprisingly well. Renold's eyebrows went up in mild surprise.

"Wow Zaria, didn't know you had it in you," he said.

"Yes, we have quite the knife thrower, don't we?" Mathew asked. He turned to Renold. "And what about you? Any skills we should know about right now?"

"Well, I can use a sword, kind of," Renold said.

"That's good," Monica said. "When you train, after getting your basic survival skills down, try out the sword station and improve your skills then. Zaria, do knife throwing after basic survival. That way you'll have a way to kill."

"That sounds like a good idea," I agreed. Renold shot me a dark look. I just glared at him back. No matter how much you dislike Monica and Mathew, they made lots of sense. More than having Palina as a mentor could ever make anyway.

"And for what we're heading to? The Remake Center to go in those idiotic costumes?" Renold asked.

"Can't help you there," Mathew said. "Just hope for the best…but knowing what seems to happen to your district every year, don't expect the best."

"Speaking of which," Palina said, now eating the cucumbers off of her eyes, "We should be getting dressed and getting ready for the Remake Center. That means out of your nightclothes." She eyed Mathew and Monica distastefully, as if the fact that they were in their nightclothes disgusted her.

"I wouldn't be so hypocritical," Mathew said, apparently aware of Palina's eying. "You're in less than both me and Monica." Palina was taken aback.

"I just woke up!" she exclaimed and headed out of the dining room, probably to change into her normal clothing.

"Well?" Monica asked. "I say you two should get dressed too. Hopefully you'll get lucky with your stylists."

I snorted as I headed to my room. Yeah right! There was no way we were getting a perfectly sane stylist. Renold and I had simply lucked out on our mentors. Well, it is to me. It's pretty clear Renold has no taste for them like Palina, but is much better at showing it.

I got dressed in a simple outfit, a dark purple T-shirt and some blue pants, then head into the main car, now simply waiting for us to arrive in the Capitol. I noticed that Renold was in a long sleeved shirt and some normal pants that looked like mine except they were black, Mathew was in a suit that looked much like his former one except that he spiked his hair up a bit more than yesterday and he now had a grey tie and Monica was in a black hoodie and the same blue pants that I seemed to wear, but they were cut up with holes.

"Where's Palina?" I asked, but it's not like I could help it. I honestly think President Snow made sure that she was anywhere our mentors are. All in all, it's kind of annoying, particularly once you truly understand how annoying Palina's full blown (and then some) Capitol accent is.

"Probably still changing," Renold said. As if on cue, Palina came into the room, her dark blue hair in some crazy hairdo that could kill. I nearly mean that literally. She was in a crazy all black get-up with gray stripes and there only seemed to be a shoulder on one side. I had to try not to laugh at her stupidity, but then had to remind myself that we were nearing the Remake Center. It would only be a matter of time before I had to get all that done to myself.

The next hour went by very slowly as I waited for my impending doom…aside from the Hunger Games. Renold and I tried actually having a normal conversation, but it was clear from the start that we didn't have much in common and that we barely even liked each other much also. I had to watch myself just so I wouldn't say something rude or mean just because he deserved it. I didn't bother trying to talk to Palina and neither Monica nor Mathew seemed like they really wanted to talk right now. So instead I just went over to couch near the window and started to stare out the window.

Out of nowhere, the azure sky and green pastures turned black with the occasional light. Although I had never been in one, I knew instantly we were in a tunnel. When this train came out of it, we would be in the Capitol. The thought both excited and chilled me at the same time, reminding me that the people here wanted to see me die brutally. But at the same time, there was a strange part of me that wanted to see this place that I had only ever caught glimpses of on the television. Then the tunnel disappeared and I finally saw the Capitol.

I instantly realized the moment I saw it that it was not possible in the slightest to capture all of the Capitol on cameras. All of its buildings were extremely grand and large – most of them with candy coloring that almost made it look like it were a dream. Monica came over to the window where I was.

"Well then, the Capitol looks exactly the same as it always does," she said. There was no contempt in her voice, just a slight tone of amusement.

"It does?! It seems like the Capitol is always changing!!" Palina said. Mathew smirked.

"Maybe the fashions always are, but not much else," he said. "They're still pretty blood-thirsty, conceited and probably fairly ignorant on the rest of the world."

"No, everything changes in the Capitol! Look, my hair was red yesterday. Today it's blue! Don't you see the change?" I rolled my eyes and went back to the window. Another train started to pass by and I managed to catch a glimpse of who was in it for a second before it passed by. I instantly noticed one boy in it. He had squarish glasses and white blonde hair and he looked directly into my eyes right before the train passed. We had just passed District Three's train, or rather, it passed us. Renold came over now, right as the train finished passing.

"Zaria, you might as well get ready to get off, we're practically there," he said. I blinked a couple times and then headed over nearby the doors off of here. In no time at all, what Renold said was right and I headed over to the Remake Center. This had to be the worst part of the Games.


	4. Chapter 4

**RipredIsAwesome: **Here's the next chapter, a combination of foreshadowing for the next book (which is the 21CB [kind-of] fic) and what happens when I listen to Green Day too much while writing. Anyway, I tried to show off what the characters really are like, Zaria's nice but with a slightly rebellios attitude and Renold...well, he's supposed to be a pretty big jerk and would stick with the Capitol throughout anything. If that's not made any clearer now, it will be soon, trust me ;)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Hunger Games, that is owned by Suzanne Collins. I should also probably say I don't own the City of the Damned either, that's owned by Billie Joe Armstrong, Mike Dirnt and Tre Cool. The song it's mentioned in though is awesome though :D

Chapter Four

"Almost done!" one of the members of the prep team said. I groaned. In the past ten minutes, I've been bathed, had my eyebrows painfully waxed (my family has always believed in shaving our legs and underarms, it's always been a District Thirteen thing), fake fingernails put on, mascara and a moderate amount of eyeliner slapped on my face and my ears made for earrings, all while having to stand naked in front of them. So the words "almost done" fortunately meant the worst was over. After having more eyebrow hair ripped off my face, they smiled broadly and left. I really wanted to put a robe on, but resisted the temptation. It would do me no good in the end, especially when it was going to come right back off again. I simply stood in the center of the room, feeling extremely bored.

It was some time before my stylist came in, showing exactly how screwed I was going to be. I'm not even sure if I should describe my time. But I can put it this way; it didn't go quite as badly as I thought. Our stylist decided that we should be made to look like coal, but not covered in coal. So I just ended up hanging out in a black dress with lots of black make-up. I noticed Renold was in the same getup (except a suit) but hated every moment of it.

"You look ridiculous," he said when we finally saw each other, waiting for the chariots to go. I shrugged.

"It could be worse," I said. "You've seen some of the outfits." I looked at myself in the reflection of the chariot. "Actually, I think I look pretty hot." Renold scowled.

"You're getting way to into this," he said. "Our mentors are psychotic heroes for a lost cause and our District voted us for the Hunger Games. And you're buying into all the shit Mathew and Monica are saying. What do you think of yourself?"

"What do I think? I think that maybe you're being way to harsh on our mentors. They know what the hell they're talking about, which is way better than having Palina as a mentor. And Renold, I want to _win_. For the District and maybe…for the hope that Mathew and Monica's cause won't be so lost anymore," I said. Renold gave me a dark look.

"Well then I hope I personally kill you at the Hunger Games," he said as we climbed onto our chariots. That was all we said throughout the entire chariot ride, the Panem anthem blasting in our ears.

_Oh Panem, how we love you!  
You took us in when we were dying!  
You made sure we were not crying!  
You promise us peace and happiness!  
Panem how we love you!_

I found myself grimacing for a second as I listened to the music and quickly put on a smile that didn't look too forced. This had to be part of the propaganda Mathew and Monica were talking about. I tried comparing it to the other music I heard, however briefly. That had been so much different; basically a song telling you to suck it, I got rich and famous and you didn't. All of recent Panem music was about Panem and how amazing it was. And Renold actually seemed to embrace this! I found myself grimacing again and put on another smile. _Just grin and bear it,_ I thought to myself. _Try and actually win some sponsors. _

The crowd was very boisterous the entire time. Evidently they loved me at the least: a couple teenage boys had thrown copies of their phone numbers and they managed to land on the chariot. I picked them up and shoved them into my bosom, the only way I could store anything anyway. Renold would look at me occasionally but didn't do anything. It didn't matter though; our dislike for each other was clear. What I did try to do was look at the District Three, to see that boy. I didn't have any luck though, I couldn't see anywhere past the scrawny District Nine kids.

"What are you looking for?" he finally asked.

"A boy," I answered curtly, showing I didn't want to talk about it. Renold, despite how much of an ass he can be, was smart enough to shut up quickly.

As the chariot ride continued, I got a couple more boys' phone numbers down my dress and Renold had the occasional pair of panties thrown at him, with their numbers on also. I smirked at him but didn't say anything.

Eventually, we made it to the City Circle, and then to the mansion of the big fat cat himself; President Alexander Snow. He was unusually tall and had a high being of authority around himself, although there was a look in his eye that showed he's probably not the right person to get on someone's bad side. His head didn't hold much hair, but what it did it was extremely white, almost to the point where he wanted to dye it white. As the chariots made it to his mansion, we all stopped as President Alexander Snow started his speech.

"Welcome one and all to the first Quarter Quell ever!" The Capitol crowd roared with cheering. I knew in my mind though, that my family and my friends wouldn't be cheering though. They would be hoping I would make it out alive. "I can tell just by that response that you can't wait for this year's excitement. But who will win? Will it be District One?" The crowd went crazy. District One made luxury items for the Capitol, it seemed only natural that they would be favorites. President Alexander Snow's gaze left the rich districts and went over to my district, District Twelve. "Or maybe District Twelve will finally get a winner!" At first there was silence, but I saw a couple teenagers with the same slightly rebellious look I saw in Mathew's eyes cheered really loudly.

"District Twelve is supported by the City of the Damned!" one shouted. Many seemed to agree with the person, but not everyone. _They need a leader_, I noticed. I looked over to President Alexander Snow. He seemed slightly agitated, but he didn't point it out, at least not being annoyed about it.

"Yes well, um remember everyone there _is not_ a City of the Damned, it's just a myth. Anyway…" President Alexander Snow kept talking but I stopped listening. The City of the Damned sounded like it could be a real place. And the kids who seemed to live in it? They looked a little like Mathew and Monica in a way. Rebellious, but couldn't do anything. Steps still need to be taken it seemed. The Districts needed a leader, but so did the Capitol rebels. And she had a feeling Mathew and Monica couldn't right now. They were too suspicious. I did manage to make a resolve to ask the two what they knew about the City of the Damned though. Mathew and Monica said they came from a part of the Capitol overlooked didn't they? This place sounded very real when put like that.

The Panem anthem blasted in my ears again as the chariots left the City Circle and Alexander Snow's mansion and we headed into the Training Center, where things would get a little easier. We would train, get a score and then get interviewed. After that, well that's when we fight to the death. In my contemplating, I vaguely noticed that we were inside the Training Center's gate now. Renold was off the chariot and gave an annoyed look.

"Well? Are you coming or not? I'm starving," he said. I climbed off the chariot and headed into the Training Center, then my room where I changed out of the idiotic dress and into a comfortable dark purple T shirt and some worn jeans. There was one more thing I hoped Mathew and Monica would tell me about their past: what do they know about the City of the Damned?


	5. Chapter 5

**RipredIsAwesome: **Woot! New chapter that didn't take forever to make! Oh, and this has even more next story stuff...if you don't like it, it's probably ending at about the time the Hunger Games fight-to-the-death-part happens, but until then, there's going to be quite a bit of it. And if you're a Green Day fan, you're welcome to guess which song I'm taking all these names off of...I'm pretty sure it's all from the same song.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Hunger Games, that is copyrighted by Suzanne Collins. Nor do I own Jingletown/Anaheim/City of the Damned, I'm pretty sure Green Day copyrighted that. I kind of own Charles, but not really because he has to do with the Hunger Games, but I'm not going through this again. Just enjoy the story.

* * *

Chapter Five

"The City of the Damned?" Mathew asked. "Oh yes, I know that place."

"Then what's so special about it? President Snow said it didn't exist," I said. Monica shook her head.

"It does. That's where Mathew and I came from," Monica said. "Really, City of the Damned isn't its real name, but the area has tons of names. You see, the Capitol is split into many areas, each one named after a different city from before Panem. The City of the Damned comes from an area called Anaheim. But, around the Dark Days – the Revolution – we started calling it something different so if any one of us would be captured and tortured, they wouldn't know what we were talking about. We called it Jingletown. But then the Capitol won and well, threatened Mathew and I. We left and tried to become normal Capitol citizens but that never worked out too well. But I thought that after the Capitol set fire to Jingletown the first time, no one would try and live there again."

"Sounds like you guys really screwed the Capitol then," Renold said darkly. "If what you're saying is true, then the Capitol killed the residents of it first then burned the town?" Mathew nodded.

"Pretty much. He burned it so no one would try and rebuild. The only thing they need now is a leader, someone to unite that group," he explained.

"What about you two?" I asked.

"No, no. We have enough trouble as it is," Monica said. "And even then, it's highly doubtful Jingletown would still trust us. They'll need someone who lives there now to lead them. We used to joke about it then. But back then, it was Mathew and I were the leaders. Now we're just the heroes for a lost cause. Now, I think you two should get some rest. Tomorrow you start training. It'll take a lot of energy out of you." Renold and I both nodded and left without a word. My mentors' words stayed in my head. I doubted that I would become the leader Anaheim needed, but I hoped that they would find it.

* * *

The next day, I hurriedly got dressed and ate breakfast before everyone else, asking a blonde, male Avox for some food. He nodded and got me a bagel. Monica came down next, dressed and ready to go. She seemed to recognize the Avox, because the minute she started talking to him, he would respond in a kind of sign language. I couldn't help but wonder if maybe he was one of the residents of Anaheim. Suddenly, I felt almost a little sick as I ate my bagel. Or maybe it was pity. I didn't know what would be worse, to live as an Avox or to die by the hands of the Capitol. One, you were dead, but the other, you might as well be dead.

Renold and Mathew came down next, but Renold didn't notice that Monica had been talking to an Avox. In the end, it was probably better that way. I wouldn't trust Renold with much, he seems too generous to the Capitol recently. Finally, Palina came to the dining area. We had to wait quite a while until she was ready to escort us though. First, she had to eat. And then apparently she had to go powder her nose some more. So I grabbed a book on the table and started reading it. It quickly turned out this wasn't exactly a Capitol book either, although it was recent. _Probably Mathew or Monica's_, I assumed. The book talked about a lot of rebellion and revolution, stuff that I probably shouldn't be reading. But somewhere deep in my mind knew that maybe it was alright at the same time. I heavily doubted that I was the next revolutionary, the endless push to get everyone to revolt. But maybe someone in the next generation would be.

Palina came back from the bathroom after a bit, finally ready to go.

"Took you long enough," Renold said. I just rolled my eyes, not really wanting to deal with Palina. She also did her best to ignore us and silently guided us to our destination, all the way at the other side of the Training Center, followed by leaving quickly, at least as fast as ten inch heels will let you go.

It appeared we weren't the only people who were late to the Training. District Two came way later than us, make-up caked on the girl. _If they're trying to make her sexy, they failed_, I thought to myself. My eyes scanned across a couple of the other tributes, but I noticed they stayed on the District Three boy the longest. And what was that around his neck? It looked like a bandana, yet tucked in so it would look like an ascot. I shook my head of the thought. If I really wanted to know, I would ask. But of course I was a little nervous about asking, so I pushed the thought back and focused on the present.

A Trainer came up to all of us and explained what we would be doing. We could go to any of the stations and learn a skill from them, ranging from something as simple as knot tying to as deadly as sword fighting. I heard Mathew's voice in my head, reminding me to stick with survival skills first. The Trainer told us we could go and I headed straight for the fire making station. It would have to come in handy. As the Trainer at that station was explaining how to do it, I heard a new, foreign yet polite voice ask, "May you restart? I would like to join." The Trainer nodded eagerly.

"Of course!" he said in a slight Capitol accent. I looked to see who was speaking. He had squarish glasses and pale skin with a blue "ascot". I instantly recognized him as the male tribute from District Three. He sat down right next to me and we listened to the Capitol Trainer tell us how to start a fire with several items. It took a bit, but I managed to build a decent fire in very little time, the same to say with the District Three boy, although he got it slightly after me.

"Good job!" the Trainer said, although I had already started to head to the next station. The District Three boy lightly grabbed my shoulder as I was heading up.

"Hold on," he said. Although I'm not sure why, I stayed. _I can trust him_, I figured. _It's for the best. At the least it's better than Renold._

"No offense, who are you?" I asked.

"I would like to ask the same of you, but I may as well tell you. My name is Charles Jacobson. You?"

"Zaria Winters," I answered. He raised his eyebrows.

"Winters?" he asked. "It sounds really familiar." I shrugged.

"I wouldn't know why," I answered honestly. He nodded.

"I understand. Shall we go to the next station together?"

"Sure," I said, deciding to learn everything I could about Charles while we went from station to station. It turns out that he is quite intelligent, but really shy and won't talk to someone unless he trusts them. He's really nice too, but deadly. He claimed he can do two or three forms of karate and is a black belt in all of them. I told him there wasn't much to me, just that I was a girl whose family was from District Thirteen and got voted here. I highly doubted he believed me, but that's all I really was, right?

Before Charles or I knew it, it was lunch. As usual, Districts One, Two and Four sat together while everyone else sat by themselves…except me and Charles. We sat together and talked for quite a bit. I quickly began to know Charles as a friend. Before we knew it, lunch and eventually even training was over and I had to go back. Charles and I said good-bye and departed.

I ate dinner and talked a bit about how training went, mostly Renold talked tonight. He was excited tonight because he realized that he was really good at sword fighting. Apparently he had beaten a Career and now the Careers were looking to put him in. I scowled slightly but didn't say anything. The last thing District Twelve needed was a Career to come from them.

After dinner, I started heading straight for my room. I just wanted to leave Renold and his Career fondness. Instead, Mathew put a hand on my shoulder.

"Zaria, I need to talk to you," he said, glancing at Renold anxiously. I instantly knew what he meant. Whatever he needed to tell me, Renold should not hear. Fortunately, it did not take Renold long before he decided that it was time to go to bed. After Renold did, Mathew and I sat down on a couch.

"As I'm sure you know based on Renold's well…boasting…he's probably going to be a Career," Mathew said. I snorted.

"Tell me something I don't know," I said sarcastically. Mathew smiled.

"You, Zaria, have an ally request also," he said.

"Who?" I asked, instantly wanting to know.

Mathew, expecting me to want to know I guess, said, "Charles Jacobson from District Three."


	6. Chapter 6

**RipredIsAwesome: **Wow, these chapters are coming out quickly (seriously, even I'm surprised). But other than that, just a couple things I want to clear up before you read. One, yes aromatherapy shops can probably be in District Three right? I mean, District Three needs a couple really outdoorsy (no clue how you spell that) folk so...it works. And two, if there's anything that sounds like it shouldn't be there (trust me, it's pretty obvious to tell) please tell me and say where. My brother went through my story and changed a whole lot. I'm pretty sure I got everything in this chapter, but I'm not sure. Anyways...yeah, disclaimer fun.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Hunger Games. If you just lost that bet, then pay the person next you whatever you owed them

* * *

Chapter Six

My eyes inadvertently lit up. Out of everyone in the Games that I've met, Charles was who I would want to ally with.

"You seem glad," Mathew said plainly.

"Yeah, I just met him today. He's really good actually," I said. Mathew smiled.

"That's what I figured when he asked me personally. His ascot is quite…interesting to say the least," Mathew said. I instantly thought of the "ascot" again. The blue and white stars, it was pretty nice yes, but why would Mathew be interested in it? Mathew interrupted my thoughts though, adding, "So you'll ally with him?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't I? Hell, I can tell him tomorrow!" I said.

"Good. Now, get to sleep. I don't want to deal with two tired people," Mathew said pleasantly.

"Who's the second person?" I asked as I started heading to my room. He smirked.

"Monica," he said. "You girls are always impossible with your sleep." I rolled my eyes and entered my room, sleeping surprisingly well being that I was going to die in a couple of days.

* * *

The next day, I hurriedly got dressed, impatiently waited for Renold and Palina to hurry up and then as soon as training began, I had to try not to run over to Charles to say yes. Instead, I waited until the Trainer was finished speaking and _then _ran over to him.

"Zaria!" he nearly shouted as I ran over to him in such a hurry. "Did um…your mentor tell you the message? About how I want to ally with you?" I nodded.

"Yes, and yes I'll ally with you! We just need to find some way to meet up. In secret of course," I said. Charles smiled.

"Well then!" he said with a grin, apparently glad that I had been so ready to ally with him. "Then I think we should split up, work on some of our strengths. We'll talk at lunch."

"Great," I said. This was fantastic in about every way possible. Charles was about the only person who I could really get along with and not feel sorry for that person at the same time. Yesterday, we had gotten through just about every major survival skill fairly quickly. It turns out Charles is (quite surprisingly, since he's from District Three) an expert at plants and survival in general. Apparently he lives in a house that works with aromatherapy, so he his parents taught him and his brother (who is named Gregor apparently) just about everything nature related. When I asked him why his family used aromatherapy, he said it was because District Three was so urbanized, aromatherapy has become popular because it was so rare in their district.

So, since today I had finished all survival with Charles's help, I could focus on my killing. In the morning I worked on a bit of knife throwing. It turns out I was a lot better than I thought after a bit of guidance. Still, once I had perfected my throwing capabilities, I tried to stay away from it. The only person I would want to show that skill is Charles. Yes, I know no alliance in the Hunger Games lasts forever, but somehow I just wanted to trust him. It seems Mathew did at least, at least more than he trusted the Careers.

Then lunch came once more to us, the twelve tributes who were picked by the districts. Charles and I sat together again, talking about what we did. Charles said he tried out most of the main weaponry used, but he couldn't really get a handle on any of them.

"What about throwing grenades?" I asked. Charles raised his eyebrows.

"Yes Zaria, they're defiantly going to let us throw grenades in the Hunger Games," he said sarcastically. I shrugged.

"Hey, it's a Quarter Quell," I said.

"Yeah, but it's not like they're giving us machine guns like what the Peacekeepers use," Charles pointed out. I scowled.

"You've got a point. But you've gotta be good at something!" I said. Charles shook his head.

"I am: survival and hand to hand combat. But, anyway, can you do anything?"

"Yeah," I said, and then dropped my voice. "I can throw knives."

"Really well or kind of?" he asked.

"Really well," I said. "I'm not even sure if I should tell you, being that no alliance in the Hunger Games and…" my voice trailed off.

"Look Zaria, have you seen some of the people we have to go against? I say we keep this alliance until the very end," Charles said. "Show the Capitol that the Districts can unite."

"And if we both make it to the end?" I asked.

"Then we'll decide who goes first. But for now, we stick it to the end alright?" I grinned.

"Great," I said.

The rest of the day went by extremely quickly. I tried out throwing a spear and sword fighting in the afternoon. Sword fighting is defiantly not my thing and spear throwing was decent. If I couldn't get my hands on a knife I could use this, but other than that, I really hoped I could stick with knives.

Finally, there was the last day: the day that we would have a private session with the Gamemakers to get our scores. We could train in the morning, but after that (during lunch) we were to wait. Tributes would then be called going from District One down to District Twelve, boys first. There were two things about this that worried me. First, was that I would be going last. There was no way I would be able to get the Gamemakers attention after they've had a bit of booze in their system. Second was that I wouldn't really have anyone to talk to. Charles would be gone pretty early since he was a District Three male. Thus meaning I would get bored pretty quickly.

After what felt like forever, a Capitol attendant told me to go inside; it was time for my session with the Gamemakers. I stood up and headed inside, bracing myself. To my slight surprise, about half of the Gamemakers looked sober and attentive. _Probably because it's a Quarter Quell,_ I thought to myself. Either way, I looked around and tried to find some knives that looked deadly. Sure enough, I found a good couple knives on a small blue rolling end table nearby the target for archery. I took two knives that looked extremely deadly and headed over to the stuffed dummy, sizing it up. After a bit of consideration, I decided to head back over to the wheeled end table and just take it over nearby the dummy.

The Gamemakers were looking at me now curiously, wanting to know what I would do. I smiled at them and threw the first knife at where the dummy's heart would be, and then another at the neck. They both sunk in deeply, showing little more than the hilt of the knife. I took another two knives and threw them at once, right where the dummy's privates would be. I heard a bunch of male Gamemakers groan as if they felt the dummy's pain. I checked the knife supply: I had two left. So, taking the last two knives, I sunk one knife into where two eyes had been drawn for the dummy and the last one was kind of a free shot that hit its arm. The Head Gamemaker (a male) gulped slightly before speaking.

"Thank you Miss Winters. You can go now," he said. I smiled and gave a low bow to them before leaving to go eat. I might actually have a real shot at the Hunger Games.


	7. Chapter 7

**RipredIsAwesome: **Well, here's the last chapter before the official fighting frenzy known to us as the _Hunger Games_. This chapter probably jumps around a lot too...but that's because I just included the training scores, interview prep and the interview. Reviews do make me smile too, so if you want to put me in a good mood, please do so! :D

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Hunger Games, quite sadly. I do however own a copy of the Hunger Games, if that makes you happy.

* * *

Chapter Seven

Now that the Training was over, I already knew I was doing two things. One was tonight, to see what my score was and how likely of a shot I was going to have. Monica warned me and Renold that the Gamemakers would probably give us low scores because we were popular with the City of the Damned and the last thing President Alexander Snow needed was that area starting to grow importance. When I asked her why she was so worried about it, that I knew I wasn't a strong enough leader myself, she had pulled me away and added that she had contact with a couple residents of the City of the Damned and they would root for any district showing rebellion. Technically speaking, they weren't rooting for District Twelve. They were rooting for me and Charles. They rooted for me because I was from a family originating from District Thirteen and they rooted for Charles because he had the strange ascot.

The other thing was get ready for the interviews. Out of all the parts, this would be the easiest. I could walk in just about anything, being a merchant's girl. I could put on a cheesy smile and say whatever I wanted too also. It made me an unstoppable force for getting what I wanted. But first, the scores. The District One got two good scores, a nine and a ten, but District Two had lower scores, the boy getting an eight and the girl getting a seven. District Three was interesting, Charles got a seven also, but the girl got a five. District Four had another eight and another seven, but the tributes didn't seem as ready as One and Two. District Five managed to scrape a five for both and the other tributes up to twelve were somewhere below five.

Then it came time for District Twelve's tributes to see our scores. Renold's picture appeared on the screen first, followed by the number nine. Renold gave a loud cheer.

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "I'm going with the Careers now!" I rolled my eyes at him but didn't say anything because my picture appeared on next. The next instant, the number eight appeared next to my number. So I hadn't done as well as Renold…but I beat a couple Careers.

"Got a low year this year," Mathew said. "Most of the Careers got sevens."

"And I beat most of them!" Renold said happily. I groaned, knowing what had probably gotten my lower score. Well, other than the fact that only half of them were sober. Most of the sober Gamemakers probably weren't happy that I had thrown two knives at the dummy's private area. Especially if that dummy was a male dummy. But then a newer thought struck me: Charles got a decent score! I wondered what he did. Showing survival rarely gets you a decent score…but if he wasn't lying about the karate, then I wouldn't be surprised if he did that. I went to bed early that night, just shortly after the showing of the scores.

~* * *~

That night, I had horrible dreams. I saw myself and Charles in what looked like a depressing cave with a small fire between us. We were simply talking, when out of nowhere, we started talking about his ascot. He was about to tell me the truth behind it, but then Renold comes and throws a spear at him. Renold's eyes are wild and full of chaos. Charles dies and lands on the fire. Renold comes over to me and is ready to kill me, but then the girl from District Five comes over and throws a rock at him. Renold falls to the ground, screeching in pain. The girl from District Five then used Renold's spear and killed herself for some reason. I couldn't do anything as I watched her die; just simply watch in horror as three cannon fires shot from the distance.

The next morning, I woke up, breathing heavily from the dream. It had been so graphic; I could still smell the blood from the cave, the smoke from the fire. Today I would have training for the interviews, like being professional and polite as well as how we would present ourselves in the interviews. Next, we'd meet with our stylists who would give us our look. Then tonight we would have the interviews themselves, our last chance at winning sponsors. This Mathew and Monica explained to us during breakfast, although we probably already knew it.

"Then who's doing what?" Renold asked.

"I'm working on how you present yourselves in public," Monica said. "And Mathew is working on your angle for the interviews. Zaria, you'll work with me first. Renold, you're working with Mathew first." Renold's expression darkened for a minute, but returned to normal.

"Fine with me. Whenever you're ready Monica," I said. She smiled.

"Actually, right now is good if you're ready," she said. I pushed my plate aside.

"Let's go then."

Monica's training was – thank God – simply things I already was skilled at. I could very easily walk in about any sized heels given to me, balance a book on my head and walk, even give a cheesy smile without it looking too cheesy, thanks to being part of the slightly richer part of District Twelve. Monica was impressed.

"Well then, there's not much I can teach you," she said. "Well, try not to trip. I don't know how high heels your wearing and who knows what happens when you wear too high of heels." I nodded with a grin.

"Okay, easy enough," I responded. The door opened and a stone faced Renold came in.

"Your turn," he said. I got up silently and headed over to the room next door where Mathew was seeing what angle the tributes (me and Renold) would take. You see, every tribute always seems to have an angle when they did the interview. Seductive, innocent, funny, quiet, all would work. I just didn't see how they would work for me. However, Mathew had an idea.

"So, what angle am I working with?" I asked.

"Well, because you seemed to have won favor with the City of the Damned, I decided that we're going to play that card for as much as its worth. You're alliance with Charles Jacobson will help also, but no one can know about that yet. You're going to be rebellious. To a point that is, just to make sure the Capitol likes you too," Mathew said.

"But I'm not that rebellious…" I said, my voice trailing off uncertainly.

"I know you're not. But you have your moments and when you do, they're quite strong. Your interest in the City of the Damned for one, and how you seem to sympathize with the teenagers that live there is a good example. I'm not saying you're going to be the person who leads the revolt against the Capitol, but, you can certainly inspire some hope for the residents of the City of the Damned that their cause isn't a lost one. That there are still fighters in Panem. Okay?" I nodded.

"That much I can do," I said. Mathew ran me through a couple sample questions commonly asked. How you got your score (being that District Twelve scores typically ran low), was your past life any interesting, and what you're like in general. I managed to answer them all with a slight rebellious sound. How I got my score? I showed the Gamemakers what I would do to them. Was my past life interesting? Not really, the Capitol has some very interesting parts and some better "myths." What I'm like in general? I believed silence and taking no action was the enemy, and to succeed in life you had to put your vices and virtues together and stand up for what you believe in.

"You'll do great," Mathew said. "I told you, this is pretty natural isn't it?" I thought about it for a minute. This _was _natural. Not like I could start a war with these words, but definitely show the City of the Darned that there was someone supporting them.

"Yeah," I answered. "So, now it's time to my dress…or whatever I'm wearing?" Mathew nodded and I headed to the last part of the preparation: the outfit.

My stylist seemed aware of my slight rebellious look also, giving me dark blue pants with holes throughout them, a black shirt and a short leather jacket. No skirt, no heels. Inside, I was cheering. Granted, I did have quite a bit of black make up, but this I could wash off.

"There! You look great! I'm absolutely sure this is what your mentors wanted! A nice, simple look that of course no one in the Capitol would be caught dead wearing," my stylist said. I actually caught his name. It was Bertrand.

* * *

It wasn't long until interviews were being held. They were televised, as was just about everything in the Games except the Training Center time, and we had an actual live audience. The host was a man by the name Patrick Oberlin, the host of all these events since the very first Hunger Games. He had to have been at least forty now, but you couldn't tell with his paralyzed like face and the pink make up to go with his pink hair style. Actually, I think that's why Palina decided to go with pink almost all the time: because Patrick does. The interviews would go in the same order as the private sessions with the Gamemakers, except this was girls first.

I saw every angle the mentors wanted their tributes to go through quite quickly. The District One girl was in an all black dress that was cut very low at the chest and had a long slit up the leg, full lips (although they didn't look too natural) and probably a bra stuffed with tissues. She was trying to be seductive and it probably worked. District Two apparently had a tough time, so they just went with what they already were: the boy was arrogant and the girl was snobby. Charles, his glasses apparently replaced with contact lenses, looked extremely intuitive and professional in his white shirt and black pants. He still has his ascot on though. Patrick tried to ask about it.

"What, this old thing?" Charles asked. "It's a family heirloom I guess. You wear it for good luck. I had it on at the Reaping."

"Well then, does it really work? If you wore it to the Reaping that is." Charles smiled.

"I would have to say it does. I also wore it during Training did I not? And that includes the private session," he said.

"Yes, that brings us to an interesting question, how did you get such a high score? Seven's fairly uncommon with District Three winners."

"Well, let's just say I have some unusual talents," he said. The buzzer rang, showing his time was up.

This was how it went for some time, although I lost track of who was going, until finally Patrick called my name. I headed into the interview area and sat down. A part of the crowd cheered wildly and I let a slight, mischievous smile on my lips.

"Ah, Zaria Winters. You seem to have quite fan base. Can I ask you how you get it?" he asked. I shrugged.

"I don't know. Natural talent I guess. If you think I actually try to get so many guys, you're wrong. That would make me a player and well…quite a few names I shouldn't say on television," I said. A couple laughs from the crowd, the same area that cheered for me.

"You're not putting yourself above anyone else in the crowd here?" I laughed.

"No! Why would I? We're in the same boat, all put together to fight for the death. Quite honestly, the only thing that it would put me above would be anyone who I kill in the arena," I said. Patrick grinned.

"You seem quite confident. What's your strategy?"

"My strategy? First, know the enemy. You have to know the enemy. Violence? It's the energy against that enemy. Rally up the demons of my soul, my virtues and my vices, and win. That's my strategy. At least overall…I won't develop a real strategy until I see what the arena's like." The crowd cheered loudly at my idea.

"Really now. That was…quite poetic. But who would you say is the enemy?" he said. I shrugged again.

"Wasn't really trying to be poetic. It's just my strategy. As for the enemy, it could really be anyone. From the person I'm fighting that minute to the last person I see before I win," I said. The buzzer rang.

"Alright Zaria. I hope you make it far! Zaria Winters everybody!" I headed back to my seat quietly and watched Renold's. Mathew had apparently decided it would be easy to make him look as menacing as possible, complete with a chain around his neck and all black clothing. I didn't pay much attention though, I just kept thinking about my performance. Every word I said had been totally spontaneous, and it was great. Out of nowhere, I heard Renold's buzzer ring and everyone was filing out, heading to their rooms. I hurriedly met up with Charles.

"Charles!" I said. He turned around.

"Zaria! You did amazing! And that's a nice look for you," he said, noticing my clothing. I shook my head. We were walking towards the elevators now, ready to get a good night's sleep. But first I had to talk to him first.

"No, black's not really my thing. But about your erm…ascot…is that true?" He nodded.

"For the most part, yes it is. I say most because well, I'll tell you in the Hunger Games okay? It might buy us some time before the Gamemakers decide to do something," he said.

"Alright, yeah that'll work. And as for the meeting up for the alliance…" my voice trailed off as we made it on the elevator.

"We'll meet at the Cornucopia, get whatever weapons we need and that's it," Charles finished. "We run and hide. With your fighting skills and my survival skills, we'll make it to the end. Now, if I were you, hurry up and get to your room and get some rest. You'll need it for tomorrow." I gave another nod as the elevator hit the third floor, his floor. Out of nowhere, I also decided to hug him. He was a little startled at first, but went with it. He almost seemed glad.

"Friends?" I asked. It took him no time to respond.

"Friends," he answered. We both let go and I watched him go to his room to sleep as I waited for the elevator to do the same to me.

Mathew and Monica told us some final words before we left. It was also confirmed that Renold was officially in the Career pack. It seemed that he didn't know about my alliance also, with Charles. Personally, I was glad Mathew and Monica didn't tell him. The last thing I needed was Renold wanting me _and_ some other person killed.

Somehow, that night I slept soundly without any trouble. Maybe it was that I had a friend in the Games. Or maybe it was that I actually had a chance. Either way, it was the best sleep I had in years.


	8. Chapter 8

**RipredIsAwesome: **Holy freaking crap this story is going fast! Well, yeah, here's the next chapter, already. And I realized, the City of the Damned references are simply going to be lessened. They'll still be in here, but for a much different reason. What that is, you should figure out soon ;)

**Disclaimer: **If you are reading this, congratulations, you know I do not own the Hunger Games. You can have a cookie now!

* * *

Chapter Eight

I have sixty seconds to see what's at the Cornucopia, observe my surroundings and find Charles. First up, everything at the Cornucopia's scattered, but I see the one thing I do need. It's a container full of knives of every size. And there are twenty four knives in there. If I really had to, that could be one knife per person with two extra because of me and Charles. With forty seconds left, I quickly make eye contact with Charles and mouth out a couple words to him. He instantly understands and nods. With thirty seconds left, I looked at the arena. Tall, old brick buildings towered above me, but only on one side. The Cornucopia stood at the edge of the buildings. With a sudden horror I realized what the arena was.

We were fighting in an abandoned town.

Ten seconds were left and I pushed the thought down and focused on the blood bath about to come. A gong sounded as the last second came and everyone rushed either into the fight or away from it into the town. I managed to take a backpack that was towards the edge and slung it on my back. I went in even deeper for the knives.

"Zaria, behind you!" a harsh voice cried. I ducked as a spear went flying to me, but got some other kid in front of me. I took the spear out of the tribute and headed in slightly deeper. No one really seemed to care about me as I snatched the knives out of the Cornucopia and sprinted out of there, grabbing an extra backpack for Charles. I got a tap on the shoulder and jumped.

"I'm right here," a pleasantly familiar voice. I swear I could've jumped out of my skin, but instead I just turned around. Charles was, of course, right next to me, running with me out of the Cornucopia.

"Great. Now, let's go find somewhere to stay," I said. We ran for quite a while until we got to the middle of the town where a fountain and a giant clock stood. I tossed a backpack over to Charles and took the other one and started fishing through it. A set of matches, two empty water containers, a first aid kit and some dried fruit were all inside the backpack. It made me wonder if the water inside the fountain was pure enough to drink. If so, Charles and I could make a base in one of the houses and simply come here for water.

"Charles, does this water look clean enough to drink?" Charles shrugged and used his hands to scoop some of it into his mouth. He grinned.

"It's great. No chlorine or anything," he said. "Perfectly pure." I nodded and put the two containers in the fountain, filling them up. We sat on the fountain's edge for a bit, enjoying the quiet, until finally he added, "Zaria? How are we going to get food?"

"Um…I don't know. I have some dried fruit that'll hold us for a bit but that's it," I said. Then an idea struck me. We were in a town. If we didn't have any food, at least we had shelter. "I think we should try out a house. Then we'll at least have shelter."

"Sounds good. We can talk in the house," he said. We found a house close to the fountain and I Charles used a small hairpin in his backpack to pick the lock on the door, waiting for cannon shots that didn't come. The shots of the cannon represented if someone died so you could remain up-to-date on information. So there was still quite a bit of dying going on. Charles and I had been pretty lucky, making it out with two backpacks, a knife kit and a spear.

After a bit of trying, the door opened up and we entered the house and locked it. The room was dark, but Charles turned on a light. The room was still decorated as if people lived there, but I had a feeling there wasn't anyone. The only bad thing about the house (other than the shabby décor) was that there were scorch marks on the wall. Like it had been on fire.

"This is strange," Charles said. I headed over to him.

"What?" I asked. He pointed out the window to the clock. Engraved in large letters, it said: _We are the stories and disciples of the..._ The rest of it had eroded away. There was something familiar about the place. Like my mentors talked about it actually…

My train of thought broke as cannon shots rang through the air. "Damn it!" I exclaimed. Charles counted the shots.

"Only seven are gone," he said. "Probably all the Careers are still alive. They'll be running around on their man hunt tonight too. Best we turn out the lights."

"Yeah, okay," I said. I headed over and shut off the lights, making it extremely dark. Charles and I stayed by the window though, watching in anticipation. It had gotten dark really quickly and a hazy light cut through the darkness like a knife. I instantly recognized it as a flashlight.

"Get down," Charles muttered. "They can see us with that thing." I listened and we both ducked our heads below the window. You could hear five pairs of feet running through the town all at a steady beat and another pair that sounded off beat with the steady drumming of the other five. The Careers had found someone.

There was a distinct scream, obviously female and a loud cracking sound that we could hear from where we were. But as far as Charles and I knew, they could've been right next to us. I felt like wanting to get sick as another crack was heard, but didn't. Two cannon shots were heard and the feet continued, beating away until they were unheard. As the feet disappeared, the sound of a hovercraft came, and then all was silent. Charles slowly opened the door and checked for Careers.

"They're gone," he said quietly as he relocked the back door. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank God," I said. "That was…"

"A little scary that they would find us?" Charles asked as he closed the door and locked it behind him. "Yeah, a bit. By the way, why did I hear five pairs of feet? Isn't there only four Careers?"

"My district 'partner' Renold decided to be a Career. Don't ask," I said. Charles smiled.

"I wasn't," he said. I was about to turn on the light when a television suddenly turned on, blasting the Panem theme (the instrumental version).

"This must be how anyone in a house gets to see who died," I observed.

"Well at least they didn't forget about us," he said. I watched the pictures go past of the nine dead. The District Five boy, all of six, seven, eight and nine were all dead already. I recognized the boy from seven as the one who I had taken the spear from. The live ones were all of Districts One, Two, Three, Four, Ten, Eleven and Twelve as well as the girl from District Five also.

"Low numbers for deaths this year," I noticed. Charles nodded.

"Yeah, it's like the Careers don't care about us, just letting us escape like that. Now come on, let's look around the house." We checked out the house and figured out that the only furnished area was the main room and the bathroom, and even that only had a toilet. I was sort of glad really. It shows that they didn't take a real town and evacuate it at the least. Oh, and we found two staircases, one leading to a set of underground rooms and passageways and another going up to the roof. We even looked up at the roof and it was perfect for seeing what was going on. It was really high up, but with high enough walls on either side so no one could see you spying. We headed back downstairs to the main floor.

"We should go hunting tomorrow," I said. "Being that all we have is some dried fruit and this house only holds a pretty crappy couch and a light and all. And I can get you some kind of weapon. Like a staff or something, that goes well with karate."

"A staff…? Okay, yeah we can try. Not saying it'll go well, I can only ever fight with my hands but I'll make an attempt." I smiled.

"Thank you Charles," I said. "Now, let's get to sleep. It's gonna be a long day tomorrow."

* * *

**RipredIsAwesome: **Just for the record, there IS a reason why the Careers didn't seem to be attacking anyone, but you figure out later. And if you wanna take a stab at what the arena's supposed to represent, put it in a review. Or you can just review...that would be nice too :D.


	9. Chapter 9

**RipredIsAwesome: **Wow, this story's going really fast! I already have what's probably going to be most of it ready to post (I'm a couple chapters ahead of what gets posted so if I happen to get insane writers block or something I can still have chapters up), it just won't be the longest thing ever written. And just for the record, compared to some of the chapters, this one's more or less a filler chapter. Anyway, here you all go!

**Disclaimer: **Alas, I do not own the Hunger Games. Yes, I'm upset too.

* * *

Chapter Nine

The next morning Charles and I woke up early and started to get to work on hunting. We both agreed that the house we were staying at could be a permanent base camp in a way, at least for now. Then Charles and I headed out, got some more water from the fountain took a left at the fountain. Granted, it was the same direction the Careers had went, but if we were lucky we could run into a tree or two. A tree meant there was at the least wood so I could make a staff for Charles. It had also been agreed that if the Career pack would find us, Charles and I would split up into the houses and head into the passageways underground.

We got lucky today though and didn't run into anybody. Charles and I also managed to find a nice tree in a park to make a staff off of, and I killed a couple good squirrels and a bird with my knives somehow. Charles even found a plant or two that's edible. The two of us headed back to the house…um…base camp with our game feeling great. Until of course, we realized something.

"Charles?" I asked. He looked at me as we entered base camp.

"Yeah?"

"Is it just me or do we not really have a way to prepare our food?" I asked. Charles looked at the couple squirrels in slight annoyance.

"Doubtful. There's no stove here but…don't you have matches?" he asked. My face lit up.

"Yes! I do! But what do we start the fire with and…where?" I asked. He grinned.

"We can start the fire underground. As to keep it going…" Charles looked around in the house until he found a toddler's book called _Counting with the Capitol_. "We can use this. Normally I don't appreciate the burning of books, but I think in the Hunger Games, it's necessary."

"Of course," I said. "Any book with a title like that, it's worth it." We headed down into the underground area and started the fire, using the book to keep the fire going at a pace so we could cook the food but not make the fire too big. After a while Charles could simply work on the fire himself and I started working on the staff for him. It didn't take long at all until the squirrels were ready and we could eat. Charles doused the fire, leaving us with two pages from _Counting with the Capitol _that we could burn for tomorrow. I leaned his half finished staff on the wall of the underground passage and took a squirrel.

We ate in silence for some time. What could we say? There wasn't really all that much to say right now. The blood bath was probably keeping the Gamemakers fairly entertained. But then again…maybe it wasn't. I had to assume Charles was thinking the same thing because he started talking.

"So, your district token's a tooth?" he asked curiously. If we talked (as the Capitol had no recollection of us knowing each other formerly in a way), then the Gamemakers would probably be less likely to force some crazy torture weapon on us. And because we were in a town…it could be anything.

"Not just a tooth. A shark tooth," I said. "My friend gave it to me since my family came from District Thirteen and managed to escape before it was bombed."

"District Thirteen?" Charles asked. I nodded.

"Yeah, my family used to live nearby the coastline. Not where District Four is – that's way south of us – but we were way up north. At least, that's what my parents told me. I'm one hundred percent District Twelve," I explained. Charles still didn't look satisfied.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing, it's just that reminded me of a story my parents told me," he said. "There's apparently a myth that there were three friends and relatives to the original Panem. They all got married and their last names changed. Right before the Dark Days there was the Blanco family, who always became the president, the Snow family who were the Blanco's cousins, closest advisors and current Presidential family. And then there was Snow's sister, who got married and they changed their last name to Winters. They were Blanco's cousins also. Well, the Winters portion decided to go and escape to District Thirteen only a couple days before the Dark Days. No one knows if they are still alive or not." I stifled a laugh.

"That sounds insane," I said. "Why would the Winters side want to escape away from the other two sides?"

"Because the Winters side eventually realized how corrupt Blanco and Snow were. They figured they were too high up in power for anything they do to go unnoticed so instead they just moved. I had wondered for a while if you could confirm if the story was true or not, since you _are _a Winters," he explained as he finished up his squirrel.

"If we are no one told me," I said. "Is that myth common knowledge?" Charles shook his head.

"No, I don't think so. My parents know it, but they told me tons of things. Like about this one place they called Jingletown." I raised my eyebrows.

"What do you know about that place?" I asked instantly. Charles gave me an amused smile.

"Not much. I'm sure my parents would've told me more, but they were forcibly separated when Gregor was born. I've lived with my father since I was four. My mother was pregnant with her third child then. My father got remarried to some ditzy woman, but I think he still kept close contact with my real mother," he said. "How do you know about it?" I bit my lip. This would be hard. Everything that was seen or heard in the Hunger Games was recorded and possibly heard.

"I heard it through the grapevine," I said dismissively. "Now, I think we should head back up to the main room. I'm sure it's late out and we need our sleep." Charles nodded.

"Seriously," he said. He got up and grabbed his half finished staff, threw it up and caught it effortlessly.

"Not bad," he said as we started up the stairs.

"Like it?" I asked. "It's not done yet of course, but that tree has got some impressive wood." I turned the door and Charles and I headed into the living room of the house. What we saw definitely surprised us. Two tributes that looked unusually strong to be normal tributes. But that's because they weren't normal tributes. They were…

"Careers," Charles muttered darkly. The boy smirked at us.

"Look what we have here. Rebel girl from Twelve and science geek from Three. Well then, looks like Sparkle and Denim were right. This will be easy pickings," he said.

"What are you going to do to us?" I asked, trying to sound scared. I wasn't though. I was pretty sure these were District Four kids. In other words, out of all of the Careers (including Renold), I knew I could take these guys. The boy got right next to my face as he talked.

"Why, we're going to kill you. Such a shame too, you're very pretty for someone from District Twelve," he said. I backslapped him. The boy gave me a vicious glare as he touched his cheek but didn't say anything.

"Fine. If it's a fight you want, it's a fight you get," I said. From my small, lightweight jacket, I pulled out three knives. The kit I had gotten even had storage.

"You're outnumbered though," the boy said.

"No she's not," Charles said, taking his staff and putting it in his dominant hand. The girl laughed.

"Like that's going to be of any help! But fine, we'll fight. Right here in this house if you really want it. But you're going to lose," she said. The boy slipped a sword out of its sheath and the girl grabbed her spear that was probably from off of the ground.

"Prepare to lose," she sneered. I sent her a smirk.

"In your dreams," I said, twirling my knives around dangerously. In my mind, I remembered Mathew and Monica. Imagine your enemies were friends of the Capitol. And then my words from the interview came in. _You have to know the enemy. Violence? It's the energy against that enemy. Rally up the demons of my soul, my virtues and my vices, and win. _It was finally time to show my skills for the world. On two of the people that deserve it the most, the people who actually supported this, at least the ones inside the Districts in fact: Careers tributes.


	10. Chapter 10

**RipredIsAwesome: **Woot! New chapter! Just a couple notes before I start this: 1) yes the fighting scene probably isn't the best but please don't focus on that too much. 2) The Death Pinch (as will be mentioned) I'm pretty sure is real. It's supposed to be a spot where if you put pressure on it, cuts off major circulation to your brain. I don't know exactly where it is, but one of my friends showed me once (I just forget) and I've got a good idea. I think it's in the neck area. Anyway..enjoy the chapter!

**Disclaimer: **RipredISAwesome does NOT own THE Hunger Games. I own a copy of the books, but the series is copyrighted (C) by Suzanne Collins.

* * *

Chapter Ten

It wasn't much longer after I had gotten ready to kill when the girl jumped on me, throwing her spear into some dark spot. My knives had slipped from my grasp and were scattered across the floor. It was clear that she wanted to fight me hand to hand. I gave her a rough kick and tossed her off of me, although it took a while. The girl weighed a ton! She groaned as she rolled on the ground and grabbed her previously thrown spear.

"You die now," she said darkly, stalking over to me as I continued to lie on the ground, immobilized. She thrust her spear towards me, but I rolled on the ground and then swung my legs to trip her. The girl tripped, but was so big and I was so slender that it didn't work fully. However, she did drop the spear again. I scrambled over to grab it, but the girl took both of my arms first and stopped me.

"Not so fast," she said, breaking her grip slightly so she could get a knife out of her jacket. She pulled me closer and then started tracing my neck with her knife. "I could kill you in an instant, rebel girl." As if to emphasize this, she pushed slightly harder on the knife, causing a small trickle of blood to start making a trail on my neck. "But I don't think I should. Not right now at least. You should suffer a bit."

"You really think that?" I asked. She laughed.

"Hell yeah! Those people that you're bringing together? I want to show them what would happen to them," she said. She removed her knife from my neck. I smirked.

"Wrong decision, girl," I said viciously and then kicked her in the stomach to make her let go of me. I pulled out a knife from my jacket that had a number four on its handle. It was extremely long and pointed, like a knife made for sushi. Perfect.

"You can't kill me with that thing!" she exclaimed. I gave her a rueful smile.

"Watch me," I said and threw the knife at her neck at a wicked speed. She didn't even have time to react before the knife killed her, ramming into her the top of her neck. The District Four girl fell to the ground, the giant cut in her neck facing the ground. The blood flowed from her like the fountain outside of the house. I didn't even bother getting the knife. Not only did I not want to deal with all the blood, I had twenty four knives. Even in the Hunger Games, when I have that kind of surplus, I don't need to go out of my way to get a knife. I looked over where Charles stood. The body from the boy was right at his feet, dead. You could tell by the glazed over look in his eyes. Yet there didn't seem anything wrong with him.

"How did you…?" I asked, not wanting to finish.

"A move Master taught me, the Death Pinch. Ten seconds, their unconscious. About after a minute, they're dead." he said. Well, that made it certain. Charles was a black belt in karate. "Now come on. Let's move these corpses out into the street so the hovercraft can take them." I nodded in agreement, but took the boy. I swear he had to have weighed half as much as the girl. Charles, however, could seemingly effortlessly carry the girl to the nearest exit. We tossed them both throw a broken window that it appeared the members of District Four had entered through. Two cannon shots sounded.

"We have to leave this house," I said as soon as the boy had been tossed over. "We should fill up our empty water bottles to as full as possible and leave. The rest of the Career Pack will be on our tail soon."

"No, Zaria," he said. I looked at him.

"Then what do we do?" I asked softly. "They know where we are." He smiled.

"Exactly. They'll expect us to move and will check every house, but only the main room, correct?" he said. I nodded.

"I don't see where this is going," I admitted. Charles's smile just got bigger.

"That's good then. But think Zaria. What's the one place, other than the roof, that we found?" Suddenly it hit me. Of course! We had just been there. I smiled.

"The underground," I said wryly.

"And if what my father told me is correct," Charles added, "then this should connect us to every major area and house in the town."

"What did your father tell you?" I asked.

"Well, I'm almost certain this is the place they called Jingletown. It fits the description exactly, with the brick buildings, the tall clock tower with the inscription, and the high rooftops. Yes, this has to be Jingletown. Anyway, my father told me tons of things about this place. All of its names, some of the people that grew up in this town, even what the motto is on the clock tower. He told me how this place started and how it was supposedly destroyed. I just wonder why the Capitol would pick to make a copy of the place for their arena," he mused. I shuddered.

"If that's true, then I'm sure this place is coming down the same way Jingletown did," I said. "Fire."

"They wouldn't," Charles said. I shook my head.

"Oh yes they would. Just to show everyone a lesson. That no matter what, they are the ultimate power. I'm sure you saw those people at the Opening Ceremony. The ones that promised the return of the City of the Damned. It seems just like the Capitol to crush their spirits, their hopes, by showing what they did to this place and what they can easily do to it again. It's truly sickening," I said bitterly.

"Does this conspiracy theory thing come naturally to you?" Charles asked. I shook my head.

"No. Now come on, we've got to get underground," I said. Charles wordlessly agreed and grabbed my other knives and his staff. I simply marched silently on down to the Underground, our new base.

We came up only to watch the deaths. All of District Four (thanks to us), all of District Eleven, the boy from District Ten and the girl from District Five. That was another six added on to the nine dead already. So we were slightly above half, but not by much. Still, I couldn't help but think of the Career attack Charles and I had today. That many deaths in a day…it almost seemed planned. And the Careers probably sent two of their weaker members for us, other than that man-girl of course. The screen turned off as Charles and I headed back down. I shook all my previous thought from my head. _It can't be true, _I reasoned. _The Careers wouldn't actually plan a ranged attack on all the non-Career groups._

Even with this thought passed me, it still took quite a while to fall asleep that night.


	11. Chapter 11

**RipredIsAwesome: **Yay new chapter quickly! Seriously, I'm moving really fast with this, I wasn't expecting this story to go this well. This is the chapter when pretty much everything else if figured out and I don't think they'll be any more major secrets that are going to figured out. If there are...then I'll tell you when. But I'm pretty sure this is it. Oh, and I figured I will include a little CharlesxZaria. Not enough to make it seem really romantic but a bit. Not in this chapter really either. It'll show up in the next two. ;)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Hunger Games. And in a way, I realized I don't own the name Denim. Some celebrity actually named there kid Denim. I feel sorry for that kid. I truly do.

* * *

Chapter Eleven

I don't know how long we slept that night, or the next night for that matter. You couldn't really tell because when you were in the Underground – as Charles and I started to call it more and more. Not saying the area was poorly lit though. Although I hadn't noticed it when Charles and I were just in here to start a fire, there were numerous torches that hung on the walls. And if you walked around in the Underground, certain areas weren't just carved out passageways, but entire rooms and almost like an underground housing area. We never stayed in those areas though, because we didn't know what it was like above. Rather, we always stayed in our little passageway under our original base house.

After the first day past the District Four infiltration, there were no deaths. There was also no sign that anyone else knew about the passages, at least that Charles and I could reason. However, I managed to finish his staff and we had enough squirrels (and a bird or two I killed successfully) to last us a week. Naturally, I knew that this probably wasn't a good sign for all the animals to be out at once, but I ignored it for now. It was getting us food.

As Charles and I worked on the food (we no longer needed a proper fire because of the torches) we would try and talk. Well, we didn't really need to try. Conversation came naturally between us on just about anything. And we knew quite well that the more conversation going on, the better chance we would of little-to-no Gamemaker intervention. Eventually the conversation turned to just what I wanted to talk about.

"So, Charles, what's so special about you 'ascot'?" I asked innocently. He grinned at me and simply pulled it out of his shirt. It was not an ascot at all, but a bandana. It had thirteen thin stripes that switched between the colors red and white. In the top left hand corner, a part of the stripes was cut off for a blue box filled with tons of white stars. I figured that there had to be about fifty stars in that box.

"This is my District Token," he said proudly. "A bandana of the flag before Panem and even before there was any ideas of Panem. A place called…crap."

"Called Crap?" I asked. He shook his head, a bit of color flooding to his cheeks.

"No! I forget what it is. United States of…something. I forget the last word," he said. I rolled my eyes.

"Oh. Is it a common word?" I asked. He shook his head.

"Ugh…there's Panem, which is said to contain all the land of...North America. That's it! It's an image of the flag of the United States of America!" he exclaimed.

"…America?" I asked. He nodded.

"It was the country that existed here before Panem. A place where anyone had the right to do anything, for the most part at least. No area was of more power than another and you had the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. At least, that's what I've been told," he said. I snorted.

"Sounds like a fantasy," I said indifferently. Charles shrugged.

"Then why do I have a flag imprinted on my bandana?" he asked. Shit, he did have a point there. You don't normally get imprints of nonexistent flags. So if everything what he says is true, then this bandana would have to be extremely old.

"Okay, fine. Is everything what you said on the interview true, about it being lucky? And being in your family?" I asked.

"Yes. This has actually been in my family since way past I can remember. Defiantly since before the Dark Days, and probably even before Panem. And of course it's true about it being lucky. I've been wearing this thing since the Reaping and nothing truly disastrous has happened to me," he said.

"What about your District voting for you?" I asked.

"Those votes were rigged," he said simply. I raised my eyebrows.

"What makes you say that?"

"I saw some Peacemakers in my district putting tons of votes in there. And once I saw that, I knew either me or Gregor out of my father's side of the family was getting picked. We've got to be one of the less liked families for the Peacekeepers," he explained.

"Why?"

"Well, a lot of reasons. Ones I shouldn't say on television. Ones that have to do with why I know what Jingletown is. Ones that explain why I'm sure the Capitol separated my parents. Ones that show how I got this bandana, or how when I personally told your mentors I wanted to ally with you, that they knew instantly that this wasn't an ascot. Ones that would show why your mentors were so shocked when they recognized me, because they thought my family was dead. I won't say it now, but soon trust me. You of all people Zaria should know who my parents are," he said. I don't know why, but I shivered slightly. Something about his words struck me hauntingly familiar, something Mathew and Monica had mentioned.

_So me, Mathew and some of our friends killed the first President; President Blanco._ That had been what Monica said, in what felt like a millennia ago. She had never mentioned how many people, but I started to get a good idea that if they recognized Charles, it might be possible he had some kind of family that had helped with that.

We faintly heard a crashing sound from the house. I scowled.

"Did the Careers find us again?" I asked. Charles shrugged.

"I don't know," he answered. He still grabbed his staff though. I followed suit and grabbed a knife labeled with the number twelve. It had a smooth, black handle. I couldn't help but notice that it had a small relation to the District Twelve, just like the one labeled with the number four had a relation to District Four.

_Does that mean Renold's in the house? _I thought. There had to be some reason why I wanted to choose the one labeled with this number.

"Zaria? You coming?" Charles asked. He was at the staircase. I felt my face grow hot.

"Oh, yes! Sorry!" I exclaimed a slight embarrassed look as I ran over to the staircase. Charles raised an eyebrow at me, but didn't say anything in particular as we headed up the staircase and into the living room.

When we headed into the room, we found it surprisingly bare. There were no signs of recent activity at all, except for one thing. A rock was positioned slightly past another broken window. I went over to the broken window, being careful of the broken glass. The rock simply lay on the ground, with a small piece of red string around it. I picked up the rock, making a small, rolled up, piece of paper slip off the string. I took the now paper-less rock and threw it out the window.

"What was that for?" Charles asked.

"We don't need that. We need this," I said, picking up the paper. "It looks like someone was trying to send us a message." Charles came over and examined the paper.

"It's a Career message," he said.

"How can you tell?" I asked. He pointed to the names at the bottom. It said _Denim Oakley_ in a sparkly font.

"That's one of the names that the District Four goons said had sent them to us. And the names of course, District One always gives their kids such…different names. And that's putting it in the nicest way possible," Charles said. He scanned it over. "Um, I think you should read it." He handed the paper to me. I read the paper out loud, although I'm not exactly sure why. Charles easily managed to read it over me, although he wasn't tall, I was short.

"_District Twelve and Three,  
We know you're in this house. We don't know where, but we are aware of your presence, thanks to our friend Renold Yeeser. He was not aware of your alliance, but we managed to figure it out. Not many people could probably kill both of District Four and live. _

_Maybe you're wondering why we sent you this note. Well, let's put it this way. We (as in the Careers) know that you two aren't going to leave your little safe house. We've tried searching for you two, but ever since the fight with District Four, we can't find you anywhere in that house. Instead, we did something else. We kidnapped the female tribute from District Three, Marie. If you want to keep her alive, you have to come and save her by tomorrow. Which, that place is nearby the Cornucopia. If you listen closely, you can hear a small stream. That's where we are._

_Don't worry about being outnumbered, you won't be…at least, not by a lot and not at all if you manage to save little Marie. We jumped on District Two today, since we felt like they were a burden to the success of the Careers. If you don't believe us, you can go ahead and wait for the showing of the deaths tonight. If District Two doesn't show up, you will see little Marie at your doorstep, perfectly fine. If you fail to capture Marie however, trust me, she will die. _

_We hope to see you there  
~The leader of the Career Pack: Denim Oakley_

_A P.S from Renold: Zaria, if you're reading this, remember: I am going to be the one who kills you._"

I finished reading it and looked at Charles. He looked horror struck, his face extremely pale.

"Are you okay?" I asked. He shook his head.

"Not really," he said. "I didn't really think that anything like that would happen…" his voice trailed off.

"That what would happen?" I asked.

"That they took the girl from District Three, Marie," he said. Suddenly, I felt a slightly sick feeling in my stomach. Why was he feeling so protective over her?

"Okay. Is there something about her that makes it wrong?" I asked.

"Of course there is. I won't patronize you for not noticing it, it's hard to tell. But anyway, do you remember when I said my parents were forcibly separated and that my mother was pregnant with her third child?" he asked. I nodded, saying in a way: _of course I know, how could I forget? _Charles continued.

"Well, when we were in the Training Center, I got to know my District Partner, Marie Gavin. She told me about her mother and I managed to put it all together there. As it turns out, Marie is my younger sister whose been living with my mother her entire life." My eyes widened slightly. Marie and Charles were brother and sister? How horrible that the Peacemakers made it fate that would be "voted," together, to fight.

"Is that why you said the Reaping was good luck? Because you were reunited with your sister?" I asked quietly. He smiled.

"Partly, yes. Being reunited with my sister was amazing. But there's another reason too," he said. I could hear a slight tone of amusement in his voice.

"And what's the other one?" I asked. He was about to answer, but suddenly, the instrumental Panem anthem blasted throughout the room and the television turned on. I swore under my breath. Who knows what Charles would've told me right there?! Leave it to the Gamemakers to prevent me knowing. But we watched to see which tributes had died. Sure enough, Denim were right. They had apparently ganged up on the two District Two tributes and killed them. So, that just left Districts One, Three, Twelve and the boy from District Ten. Seven people.

"These Hunger Games are going by fast," I pointed out. Charles nodded.

"It looks like the Careers plan. Because they got lower scores this year, they decided to instill some false hope in the other tributes. Make them think someone other than a Career's going to win this year. Then, a couple days ago when we saw the District Four tributes, was supposed to probably be when all the Careers pretty much attacked at once to take care of as many people as they could. What I doubt they expected was any number of them dying, like what District Four did.

"From there, I wouldn't be surprised if they hadn't simply kidnapped Marie and tried to get as much information about me as possible from her. She's smart, so she probably said we were brother and sister to keep herself alive. The other Careers probably decided to kill District Two because they're running low on supplies, since the Cornucopia mainly held weapons this year. And after all, out of all the Careers, District Two was the weakest this year. And thus, because the remaining Careers might be a little frightened actually, they have decided to try and summon us to their hideout," he said.

"Did you figure that all out a while ago?" I asked.

"No, just now is more like it. Everything just finally makes sense. Why the Careers decided not to kill us, the mass murder that day District Four went out of the race, and the kidnapping of my sister."

"Well, are we going to respond and attack them tomorrow? We'll be outnumbered," I said.

"We have to save my sister," Charles said. "We might be outnumbered, but we certainly won't be outmatched. And if we manage to save Marie, then we won't be outnumbered either."

"Okay, so we'll attack them tomorrow. Then I think we should hurry up and eat, pack everything we need and then sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a long day," I said. Charles smiled.

"Yes, it will," he agreed. "But it'll be worth it."


	12. Chapter 12

**RipredIsAwesome**: Happy Valentine's Day everyone! And for your treat, possibly the most Valentine's Day-like chapter yet! And even better, I took a quote said by Ripred in _Gregor the Overlander _towards the end. It's in italics and is supposed to be what Zaria's father said. (If you just want to read, just skip all of this. It's pretty long)

**Ripred: **That's right! Suck that Mewtwo!

**Mewtwo: **_I am a straight Pokemon, thank you very much._

**Ripred: **Really? I didn't know.

**Mewtwo: **(eyes turning amber, meaning he's getting angry) _Do you want to fight!?_

**Ripred: **(getting in a battle stance)Bring it on mutant cat!

**Me: **Are you two going to actually fight?

**Gregor: **We're talking about two...creatures...that have the biggest egos. It's not gonna stop.

**Me: **Okay. Gregor, you can do the Disclaimer. I'm going to have to go get someone to break this up. I don't like it when two of my favorite characters that are still alive are fighting.

**Gregor: **Okay! RipredIsAwesome does not own the Underland Chronicles, Ripred, Mewtwo or myself. Or whoever she's going to get which I'm afraid is going to be....

(door from the random room their in swings open. Glitter goes everywhere)

**Me and Mewtwo: **Mangus Bane!

**Ripred: **Seriously, the gay warlock?

**Me: **YES! And now as these three are fighting, enjoy the new chapter which is still coming out really quickly.

* * *

Chapter Twelve

The next day, Charles and I packed just about everything as well as ate another squirrel. I pulled out the dried fruit from the very first day. If it took long enough to get back, we would eat the fruit. Charles grabbed his staff and I counted my knives, making sure I had a good chance of killing Renold. _I have to do it now_, I reasoned. _If I won't now, he'll win the Hunger Games. And Renold is a traitor to the Districts. He doesn't deserve to win. _

We were right about to leave the house when Charles stopped.

"Zaria," he said. "I thought about this last night and I figured that I want you to have this." He pulled out his bandana from under his shirt and used it like a hair tie, giving myself a loose ponytail. I was stunned.

"Your bandana…" I said, my voice trailing off. "But why?" He smiled sadly.

"In the case one of us doesn't make it back," he said. I bit my lip, instantly knowing what he meant.

"You won't die Charles," I said. "You just won't." He shook his head.

"Possibly. But it doesn't matter if I do or if I don't. The bandana suits you much better anyways. It's just if I don't make it through this alive, I want you to remember me with something. And I think the bandana is the best choice," he said.

"But Charles…you said it was good luck," I said faintly.

"It was. Still is. It's just that, I have a feeling that luck's going to get you much farther than it will me." A sudden quote came in my head right after he said that. It was my father, angry at the Games, many years ago when District Twelve had made it the farthest yet: the final eight. Our last tribute, a nice boy from the Seam, died by District Four.

_Well, it's been twenty years of the Goddamned Hunger Games. And I can safely say, we have yet to find a truly decent person who's won_.

A horror-struck thought hit me. So that's probably why Charles is wiling to say he's going to die! He was a truly decent person. More than decent, he was a wonderful person. And even he doubted that he could win the Hunger Games. He must've sensed what I was thinking because he added, "Zaria, I'm not calling you a horrible person because you actually have a shot at the Games. I think you're a little better suited to break the mold."

"But why are you so willing?" I asked.

"Lots of things. I've fulfilled everything I really needed in life really. I met my sister and two of my parents' closest friends. I've learned Jingletown's a real place and that there is still some hope. I've told every secret to either what feels like you or Gregor. Right now, I'm the happiest I've ever been for quite a while," he said. I felt my cheeks get hot again. Was this all really the truth? Or for the Games? Either way, I couldn't help but notice that we had never moved away from each other after he pulled my hair back.

"Um, Charles," I said, my face turning very red. He noticed it instantly and pulled back, his face turning red also.

"Sorry," he mumbled in what sounded slightly embarrassed tone. Then as if it never happened, Charles straightened up and we stepped outside, turning from an embarrassed teen to a brother determined to save his sister.

"Let's go," he said. I nodded, wordlessly agreeing with him. As walked towards the Cornucopia I tried not to focus on what had just happened, but it would cross my thoughts every now and again. Why Charles decided to give me his bandana, his closeness and almost sudden intimacy. _No_, I thought. _It's not sudden_. We had an unspoken closeness since we had first met each other; it was simply a little more subtle. I tried to push the thoughts down, not wanting to think about the past. It might make me think about the future and the fact that Charles might not make it out alive. After all, no decent person has made it out of the Hunger Games alive…

No. I couldn't be thinking of that. Charles will make it out of this alive! He deserved to win more than anyone else here. More than the Careers and certainly more than Renold at any rate. He's been through way worse than me too, so coming back with a victory would be great. The Capitol might even let his family get back together.

As we neared the Cornucopia, it was said person who jolted me out of the thoughts I had been trying to push down.

Charles asked, "Zaria? Which way did the Careers say their camp was?" I stopped and switched from my current thoughts to my memory. Where did they say they were? It didn't take long for it to come to me.

"They said that you had to listen for the stream," I said. Charles nodded and stopped moving. I did the same as to bring as little silence to both of us as possible. As the world seemed to quiet down, we could both hear the stream.

"It's coming from the north," Charles said, pointing in the direction of the sound. It was following the direction of the Cornucoipa's horn.

"And that's probably how they found it," I said, pointing out the direction of the horn. Charles smiled.

"It does seem like it, doesn't it? The Gamemakers just can't make an arena without giving us vital hints, can't they?" he said slyly. I knew immediately that he knew that the Capitol was probably using the arena to show any rebels they might have inside the Capitol that the government was still dominant.

"Yes, defiantly yes," I agreed. We walked a bit for some time, silently. It wasn't an awkward silence though, it was kind of pleasant. If Jingletown hadn't had the "abandoned town" feel, or I didn't feel like I was walking into something very bad, I'm perfectly sure that it would have been genuinely nice.

That feeling didn't last long though. After a while, you could see the Career Camp (or what remained of it at any rate) quite clearly from a distance. There was the small creek, just like what the note from Denim said. Renold was horsing around with Denim (assuming Denim was the boy). The older girl (who I remembered District Four call Sparkle) just sat there, next to a small girl with dark hair, which was probably Marie. Every now and then Sparkle would turn her head to the small girl but not often.

"We'll have to hide," Charles said. "They can see us way to clearly here." Then Charles found a good couple sturdy trees in the area and climbed up to the first branch with ease. I just stayed there. I cannot climb trees to save my life. I've actually tried too; there were one or two trees in the play yard at school. Devi could quite easily and tried to teach me, but I am nowhere near as graceful.

"Um…I can't really climb trees," I said, kind of embarrassed about the fact. Charles didn't show he was annoyed or anything, but instead hopped down from the tree.

"Alright then. Here, I'll help you up." Charles created a foot holder with his hands. "The branch you need to get up on isn't that high up, so once you get high enough, just jump onto the branch, okay?" I nodded, gulping. This probably wouldn't end well, but okay.

I stepped on the foot holder and hurriedly jumped to the branch, managing to get my upper body onto the tree branch. After some trouble, I swung my legs over and got myself on the branch. There was a thumping noise for a second, and I gasped slightly.

"Zaria, it's only me," Charles said, trying to be comforting but was clearly a little amused by the scene. I blushed.

"Oh…sorry. Being so close to the Careers is defiantly revving up my paranoia," I said. This was true. I'm sure the Gamemakers and the Capitol were getting bored of our beating around the bush.

"No, it's perfectly alright. A little humorous, I must admit, but everything's fine," Charles said. I rolled my eyes.

"Thanks," I said sarcastically. Charles grinned.

"What? I was just being honest," he said. He then re-positioned himself to make it easier to look at the Career camp. Even with the leaves blocking our vision, you could see their camp easily. There was a set of bushes nearby the girl. I figured the bush probably had berries, that way the Careers could keep her without wasting their food. I don't think there had been much in the Cornucopia to begin with. In fact, I bet the Capitol wanted a quick Hunger Games. Well, that these were: quick and to the point, but action all the way.

"So what's our plan?" I asked. I was fully prepared that one of us was probably going to be hiding and listening in for a bit. There were so few of us now that the Career camp was probably close to mutiny. If Charles and I could attack them at exactly the right moment, then we could play on that.

It appeared he was thinking on the same plain because he said, "I think you should spy on them in the bushes. You can be way stealthier than me and they won't expect you as much as they will me. So do you think you can?" I grinned. I really wanted to see what was going on with that Career Camp in better detail. This was my perfect oppourtunity.

"Sure. I wanna see what's going on anyway." Charles gave me a quick hug before I jumped down from the tree, being careful not to hit his staff. A sudden thought came over me.

_Mutual need has always been the strongest form of a bond. Stronger than hate, even stronger than love._

That was my dad. When he first told me that, I didn't believe him. But here I am, with a boy I had allied with because of mutual need and only met a couple days ago, a week at most. Already, I could say he was one of my closest friends. Mutual need is really the strongest bond there is.

Yes…Charles was one of my closest friends, no doubt about that. Which means one thing.

I couldn't accept Charles's possible death.


	13. Chapter 13

**RipredIsAwesome: **And we have yet another new chapter!

**Ripred: **(sarcastically) Amazing, can we get to the part where I say the disclaimer cause the mutant did the first chapter?

**me: **Yeah, where is he anyway?

**Ripred: **I dunno, beats me. ...Isn't this the part where you explain everything?

**me: **It is isn't it...well anyway, this chapter is probably the chapter with the worst language thus far, thanks to Sparkle. And she was origanlly supposed to really nasty, but I decided to change that because I ended up liking her too much. And Ripred, you can do disclaimer now.

**Ripred: **Yes! RipredIsAwesome does not own the Hunger Games. Or me, or Mewtwo. In fact, if she did, I'm sure her name would be Suzanne Collins and write stories, not have to constantly do Alegebra 2 homework and be annoyed by annoying people in her classes. There good?

**me: **Yes, now let us all enjoy the chapter! *pulls out popcorn*

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

I lay in the bushes right next to Marie and Sparkle, trying to listen on what was going on. Charles was waiting back at the tree. Once I had gathered enough information on the Career Camp, we would go back and we would attack together. The convsation was very interesting to say the least.

"So Marie, do you think your big brother and his girlfriend's gonna come and save you?" Sparkle said.

"Yes," Marie said. "Charles will come. Why, you don't think he will?" Sparkle snorted.

"No, I'm certain he will," she said.

"Then why don't you seem happy?" Marie asked.

"Because unlike Denim and Renold, I have a conscience. I will have you know that this was his idea," Sparkle said. _Of course,_ I thought. "He seems pretty bent on killing his district partner."

"Is that it?" Marie asked again.

"Yes. And I'm actually not lying too. You're a sweet girl Marie. You don't deserve to die in the Hunger Games. It's absolutely sickening, watching a brother and sister get put in it together. And…you're last name is Gavin, right?"

"Of course," Marie said. "Mom had to switch it back after the Capitol split up my parents."

"Gavin…isn't that the name of one of the major families who worked in the Dark Days and killed Blanco?" I saw Marie nod.

"Well then Marie, I can tell you this. That's probably a big part of the reason Renold's got part of grudge against you guys. He's fucking Capitol happy. I find it revolting." As I listened, a tickling feeling reached my nose.

_No, don't sneeze now! _I thought to myself angrily. But it couldn't be helped and I gave a muffled sneeze. Sparkle turned around and looked in the bushes.

"Whoever that is, you had better show yourself now!" she rasped. I groaned.

"Well then I might as well tell you. I'm the girl from District Twelve," I said.

"Twelve? So then Charles is coming?" Marie asked. I nodded.

"Yeah. Might as well tell you since you know," I said. To my surprise, I saw Sparkle's stone face crack a smile

"So you're Charles's girlfriend?" she asked, slightly amused. I blushed.

"N-no. At least I d-don't think so. But we are coming to save Marie and I won't stop from killing you," I said, stuttering the first part. Sparkle raised an eyebrow at my denial but didn't say anything. Rather, her smile grew.

"Well, if you're going to do this, then count me in. Just promise me something, okay? Kill me after this. We'll make it look like a fight," she said. I gasped, covering my mouth so I wouldn't attract attention.

"What?" I asked.

"You heard me. Look, I can't fight to save my life and I've been wondering if I should kill myself for a while anyway. I got that ten because my mother taught me how to use my body to get what I want. And of course I've got a brain, unlike Denim over there. He's as dumb as a rock and he's pretty much our leader! But anyway, if Denim dies – and I'm perfectly sure he will at this point – Renold will be the Career leader. He already is playing from behind the scenes," Sparkle explained.

"Then why did you let him join with you guys?" I asked.

"Well, no offense to you, but it is District Twelve we're talking about so I figured we'd be able to use him for information about what we all thought was the real threat - you and Charles - and then kill him. And even though I'm a Career tribute, I'm no fan of the Capitol leadership. When I noticed that the mere mention of District Twelve got all those rebels going, I thought it was for both of you. However Dist- I mean Charles got to you first, so I asked Renold. I thought he would be like you, but that was the case. He's the fucking opposite. In hindsight, I probably should've made a separate pack. One of all the people most against the Capitol. You, me, little Marie here and your boyfriend. Now that would've been a kick ass group," Sparkle said.

"You seriously mean that?" I asked suspiciously, even though Sparkle sounded genuine and her face showed no lies.

"From the bottom of my heart," Sparkle said. "But back to my original problem. If Denim dies, Renold will take over what's left of us. And it was his idea for everything. For the ranged Career attack on everyone. For keeping Marie alive to bring you and Charles in. For killing off District Two because he thought they didn't listen to him. All through Denim too. And I don't want Renold to win, but there are still barriers in the way. And if Renold and I both live through your attack, then kill me. Please. I entered the Hunger Games to prove women are strong. All of District One's victors are all men. But, you can do that just as well as me." I nodded.

"Okay, but I want you to promise me something too," I said.

"What's that?"

"Help me kill Renold and Denim. I don't care if you think you can't kill anyone but just try. In fact, take this," I opened my jacket and pulled a knife with the number one on the hilt out of its holder. It was a long knife with a small point, like it would be cutting through something heavy. "Take this knife. You wanted a kick ass anti-Capitol group? We can do it right here." Sparkle nodded.

"Thank you…um…" she said, trailing off because she didn't actually know my name.

"Zaria," I said. "Zaria Winters." Sparkle gasped.

"Winters? So that means the Blanco/Snow/Winters thing is true?" she asked. I shrugged.

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "I didn't even know about the rumor until Charles told me." Marie smiled.

"You know, if it wasn't for the Hunger Games, you two would make a good couple," she said. I blushed again.

"Um…thanks," I said.

"No seriously. He even gave you his bandana. I mean, I probably could figure that he thought he was going to die going two against three against Careers, but still. That bandana's the last piece of the Old World. Ever," she said. Sparkle's eyes lit up.

"So that ascot he had was a bandana?" she asked. Marie nodded.

"See? It's in her hair right now, like a ponytail holder," Marie said, pointing to it. Sparkle smiled, finally noticing it.

"Oh it looks so cute!" she said. "I would give you my token too, but it's red and red's not your color. Blue really suits you."

"You really think so?"

"One girl to another, yes. And we'll have to meet up with Charles somehow. Where is he?"

"The tree over there," I said. "Why? Won't someone notice if you're gone? And Marie?" Sparkle glanced over to where the two boys were still wrestling.

"We'll be fine," she said. "Denim's got a brain the size of a pea and Renold's still maximizing the trust thing with Denim. I still can't believe it's taking this long quite truthfully."

"Why?" I asked. Sparkle laughed.

"Denim is a stereotypical jock. You know, the one all the ditzy cheerleaders want to date but everyone else hates? That's him. He only got that nine because he can use every weapon in the book. But other than that? Useless if you ask me. We should've killed him off instead of both of District Two because even though they had lower scores, they had brains and could reason things out."

"So our only real threat is Renold," I said. Sparkle nodded.

"But he's worth two people. He's got a brain, he's killer with that god-be-damned sword of his and he's determined. That's a bad combination," Sparkle said. She turned away from me for a minute.

"Hey bimbos! I gotta go find a new fucking bush! This one's out of berries!" she yelled to Denim and Renold. They exchanged a look and Renold muttered something.

"Yeah, sure whatever," Denim said.

"Take Marie with you! I don't want her out of your sight!" Renold yelled. Sparkle nodded then turned back to me, tapping Marie gently.

"We ready to go?" she asked.

"Let's do this," I answered. "You ready Marie?" Marie nodded.

"Ready as I'll ever be," she responded. "The last stand against the true Careers I suppose."

"The true Careers?" Sparkle asked.

"You're not a true Career. True Careers do this because they _like _the Capitol; they want the money and the fame. You did this for the honor and the respect. You have more guts than almost every Career. Even though you know you're not going to win, you showed that women are strong. I respect that," Marie said. "Now let's go and meet up with my brother. And then kick some Career butt."


	14. Chapter 14

Ripred: Well that toook you long enough.

Me: Hey, I had writer's block. You can't rush awesomeness

Mewtwo *now back*: _yeah...let's go with that_.

Me *ignoring Mewtwo*: Well look on the bright side! Green Day's _American Idiot _is now on Broadway!!!!!!!!!!!!! *freaks out*

Mewtwo: _That's great. So will you let us get on with your story?_

Me: Yeah sure. Today our disclaimer is done by....

*Thaila Grace from Percy Jackson comes out*

Thaila: Me! Okay, RipredIsAwesome does not own the Hunger Games, me, Ripred, Mewtwo, Green Day's _American Idiot, _or Broadway. And yes, we're now always going to have these intros that are really long. If you don't like them, then just go on and skip down to the heading that says chapter fourteen. ...Hey, can I hang out with you guys? This looks pretty sweet *looks at the plasma screen TV where Ripred is watching a mashup of hockey fights*

Me: Sure! And for you...enjoy the story! This is the worst chapter for language really, but this is about the only one that really swears THIS much so it's still staying as a T.

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

"So you're willing to help us?" Charles asked Sparkle. It had taken awhile, but she had managed to explain _everything_ to him up to this point. We had ended up agreeing that even though we had Marie, she technically wasn't free of the real Careers: Renold and Denim. Why? Because they were expecting her back, and probably soon. So we would have to kill off Renold and Denim. Or all die trying.

"Yes, please," Sparkle said. "Renold and Denim don't deserve to win. Anyone that Capitol happy shouldn't."

"Okay then," Charles said. "Then how should we attack?"

"Easy. Once we're ready, go and attack. I'll make it seem like I've been watching over your sister the entire time and Zaria will go for me. Once Renold and Denim are distracted enough, Zaria and I can go and help you out. We only have to make it look like we're fighting long enough to make them believe it. And trust me, Denim won't take long to convince."

"Sounds like a good enough plan," I said. "But are you sure you still want to die after this?" Sparkle nodded.

"Yes. One of you three should win. Not me, not Denim and defiantly not Renold," she said. I sighed. I had tried to change her mind, although I don't know why. This is the Hunger Games! I should be glad that Charles knows he's going to die, that Sparkle _wants _to die! But because of mutual need, I am friends with Charles (very close friends really) and am becoming close to Sparkle quickly. It was tearing me apart to even consider these people dying, like it would if it were Devi dying, or my family, even Mathew and Monica dying. Suddenly, Marie's voice brought myself back to Earth.

"Charles, where'd you get the staff?"

"Zaria made it," he said. Sparkle looked at me and grinned.

"And you two aren't calling yourself boyfriend and girlfriend?" she asked. Charles turned red but didn't say anything. I pursed my lips; pretty sure I was blushing also.

"I think we should get going," I said, trying to get everyone's mind back.

"Oh, right," Sparkle said. She pulled out the knife I gave her and then exclaimed knife high in the air, "Viva la gloria! Viva la vida!"

"What?" Marie asked.

"It means living the glory and living the life in a language during the time of the Old World," she explained. "I've always found them catchy." I grinned. Viva la gloria and viva la vida…I would have to remember those. They might come in handy.

Sparkle, Marie and I headed back to the bushes. I quickly hid in them while Marie and Sparkle sat down again, an annoyed expression on Sparkle's face, as if she didn't just enjoy what just happened.

"What's going on with you?" Denim asked.

"Nothing of your fucking concern," Sparkle said.

"You're normally not that depressing, geez," Renold said. Sparkle rolled her eyes.

"Well we're this fucking far into the Hunger Games aren't we? I'm done trying to seduce you two," Sparkle said.

"What about the girl?" Denim asked.

"I've heard worse," Marie piped up.

"No one asked you!" Renold said. "Shut up!" Sparkle purposely turned to me and winked. It was time. I quickly left from the bushes and stood up, a sharp knife pointed at the three.

"Actually," I said calmly, "I think you did."

"Zaria?!" Renold exclaimed. "I didn't actually think you and Whats-his-face would come! This is the fucking Hunger Games!"

"You've lost your mind Renold. Wouldn't you save your family?" Renold's face softened slightly.

"My little ten year old sister yes. From rapists. Not from the Hunger Games," he said. "Sparkle, move over. I'll take Zaria." His face had hardened again, but a new voice came. Charles Jacobson.

"No you're not!" he exclaimed and ran over to Renold, managing to sweep his legs. Renold's face twisted and contorted into some kind of sick and disturbed smile.

"Fine. Sparkle, take Zaria. I'll take District Three over here," Renold said, pulling a heavy looking sword out of his sheath. I saw Denim give a sick grin too.

"I'll help out!" he said and ran over, suddenly noticing Marie. He pulled out a knife. "But I'm going to take care of a quick dilemma first." The knife was driven into Marie's stomach and she gave a sharp cry of pain. I saw Charles's face contort to this, but he made no showing that it affected him. On the inside though, I knew there wasn't much to keep him going.

"She's not dead," Renold said coolly, but making it apparent that he wanted her dead.

"Well we'll let her bleed to death then! She shouldn't have to see the death of her brother now, can she? CAN SHE?!" Denim asked. Sparkle shook her head.

"You have officially gone insane," she said then headed over to me.

"Zaria," she said softly. "You help Charles kill Renold and Denim. I'll see if I can save Marie."

"Okay," I said and headed over to three boys fighting. Charles was having a staff on sword fight with Renold. He would've been able to handle it, but he was also trying to avoid Denim's punches.

"Hey pea brain!" I shouted, getting Denim's attention.

"Oh look who it is," he said. "Charles's girlfriend, trying to save him. Well then, let's see what you've got." The girlfriend reference passed right through me. I was in a different world now, my senses sharpened, adrenaline pumping through my body. I pulled out two knives. One had the number one on it like the one I gave Sparkle, but the other had an intricate design on it. It looked slightly like the shorthand male symbol and the shorthand female symbol put together with a little flair at the end. I put that knife in my dominant hand, my left hand.

"Prepare to die," I said as Denim ran out of my range just to grab his spear. Then he came back at full speed, ready to kill. He ran towards me but I thought quickly and stuck my leg out, tripping him.

"That the best you got?" he snarled.

"Try me," I threatened. Denim got up and grabbed both of my arms, trying to disarm me. I jumped up slightly and kicked him in the privates. Denim let go of me and I took the knife in my right hand and threw it at him. But because my right hand isn't my dominant hand, it hit him in the left arm. Blood started leaking from the wound.

"You bitch," he rasped and then charged at me, ignoring his wound. Denim hit me full speed and I fell onto the ground, my right arm hitting a sharp, jagged rock. I heard a faint cracking noise and noticed I couldn't feel my right arm. At the least, I had fractured it, probably even broke it. Denim smirked, not noticing that I still had a grip on the other knife, the one with the symbol on it.

"Can't throw knives as well as you thought, could you?" he asked. "You can't even throw with you right hand, your dominant hand! How the hell did you get that fucking eight then?"

"You'll see," I said and spit in his face. Denim made a loud noise and backed away, letting me get back up, my right arm hanging limp at my side. Denim recklessly threw his spear at me, probably going for a last resort. But, in his shock, it stuck to the ground right next to me. I laughed humorlessly, feeling like a maniac. Then I took the spear out of the ground and threw it at Denim, aiming for his crotch. It hit too. Denim gave a loud cry of pain and fell to the ground.

I went over to Denim and looked at him.

"This is how I got the eight," I said quietly and drove my knife into his body, angling it slightly so it would pierce his heart immediately. A cannon shot in the distance. Denim was dead. I turned my attention to Renold and Charles. They were still fighting. I did notice however, that Renold was limping and Charles had a line of blood going down his face. This wasn't going to end well.

I wanted to help so badly, but my right arm was finally starting to understand that it was broken. I would either have to get a splint or make a cast to do anything. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. The pain was nearly blinding.

I slowly made my way over there, just wanting to finish off Renold. I faintly saw Charles roundhouse kick Renold. Renold seemed over boiling with anger and took one of Charles's arms, twisting it. I felt a sharp cry rise out of my throat. Renold heard this and took his sword, ramming it into Charles's stomach because it was closest in his range. Charles fell towards the ground as Renold took his sword out of Charles's stomach. Renold then slowly limped away, stopping at me and smirking.

"Well Zaria, everything's gone now. I'll leave you with the dying. I've got to go find District Ten. We will meet again," he said. "And I'll keep that promise I gave you." I ignored him and ran over to Charles. He wasn't dead yet. Neither was Marie, I think. That cannon shot that I thought was Denim's might have been hers. I looked over to Sparkle for a second. She was still working desperately, trying to keep Marie alive. But then there was a cannon shot. I looked down at Charles, his chest still slowly moving. Marie was dead. I leaned down to Charles and took his hand with my unbroken left arm.

"Charles, I'm so sorry. I wanted to help but I couldn't. I don't know why it's just –"

"Zaria, it's alright. It's not your fault. You did all you could." He coughed. "I won't be here much longer. I'll be with my sister soon…" he said.

"Charles, don't speak like that!" I exclaimed, tears running down my cheeks like rivers. Charles shook his head.

"No. I told you I wouldn't make it, didn't I? I need you to win Zaria. Win for me, for Marie, for Sparkle and for the City of the Damned. And most importantly, win for yourself. Keep the bandana in your family," Charles said, his voice getting fainter. I knew he was about to die.

"Any last words?" I asked softly. He shook his head.

"No, nothing. Wait…yes there is. Know that once I pass, you'll always have a guardian angel for you and your family. And you would've always held a very special place in my heart. Always." I smiled sadly.

"And so will you Charles. Thank you for all that you've shown me." Charles gave me a faint smile and then his eyes closed forever. The cannon boomed in the distance. Charles Jacobson, a true friend until the end of his life, was dead.


	15. Chapter 15

**RipredIsAwesome (me): **Hello everyone! Hope you enjoy this chapter.

**Ripred: **Well that was basic.

**me: **Well what else was I supposed to say?

**Ripred: **I don't know... go call someone experienced with this...like Chase!

**Thaila: **Don't! He thinks Green Day sucks!!

**Me: **Um...yeah. I'll actually feature you guys afterwards because I have to ask something of all my devoted readers. So Ripred, do the disclaimer!

**Ripred: **Okay. RipredIsAwesome does not own the Hunger Games or the City of the Damned/Jingletown. Or me or Thalia.

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Chapter Fifteen

I started to cry harder at the loss of Charles, but Sparkle came over and put a supportive arm on my shoulder.

"It'll be alright," Sparkle said. "Everything will be alright." But although I know Sparkle was trying to strong, even she was a little unshaken by Charles's death. Who wasn't? He didn't deserve to die.

"This is what the Hunger Games does, doesn't it?" I asked. "Takes everyone who's a wholly good person and kills them."

"No," Sparkle said. "You'll win, or at least you've got an amazing chance."

"Do you still want me to kill you?" I asked. She shook her head.

"No, not yet at least. Right now, there are two things that are going to prevent Gamemaker interference. One was the District Ten boy, who Renold was going after right now. The other was is me," she said. "I'll help you to your base, make a workable splint for your arm and help you cope with your loss of Charles. But Zaria, you have to understand either you have to kill me or I'll commit suicide. You should win, not me, not Renold," she said comfortingly.

"O-okay fine," I said, slowly standing up. "Do you know where it is or will I have to show you?"

"You'll have to show me. Only Renold managed to figure it out. Quite honestly, when Demetrius and Lapra found you guys, I think that was pure dumb luck. Renold actually figured out where you were," Sparkle said.

"Demetrius and Lapra…are they District Four?" I asked.

"Yeah, that's their names," Sparkle said. We started heading to my…no our base,. I would have trouble thinking about that, because it'll just make me think of Charles… or maybe I just shouldn't think of it at all. Sparkle sensed this.

"You two got really close in the couple days this has been going on haven't you?" she asked. I nodded.

"You wouldn't believe how close probably."

"I would have to imagine. Hell, Marie and I became close and that was just a night. It's just something about them. Unless you're soulless, you can't help but like them," Sparkle said.

"And that's what the Hunger Games does. Takes wholly good people and kills them. No truly good person has ever won the Hunger Games," I said bitterly, repeating not only what I said at the previous Career Camp but also what had continuously went through my mind hundreds of times. What a wreck I must look like! Hopefully the announcers for the Hunger Games were trying to play up the whole scene. Otherwise, I'm not getting any more sponsorship.

We neared the house, which still had the two broken windows.

"You guys were smart, to try the house," she said. "We never tried that. Most of us figured that the houses were just simple props at first. At the least, until District Four didn't come back and we noticed that the hovercraft was in the town. Then Renold figured you guys were probably in a house and convinced Diana and Xavier – District Two – to go find Marie.

"They did, which I almost wish they didn't, but I can't change the future. Anyway, then Renold convinced Denim to kill off District Two, saying they were weak and spineless. Denim agreed and they figured they would do it without my help. But Denim's an idiot and spilled to me anyway.

"I was horrified. Even with their lower scores, they were smart. Xavier was one of the few males that I couldn't seduce in that crew. No, he was the only one. I did it to Denim all the time and Renold would fall for it on occasion, especially at the beginning, but I digress. Anyway, after Denim and Renold killed Xavier and Diana in their sleep, Renold convinced Denim to write the ransom note. Renold was the one who found the house though. I wouldn't be surprised if it was a lucky guess but still…" her voice trailed off as two small, silver parachutes came down gently next to us.

"A sponsor gift?" I asked.

"Not just one," Sparkle said. "Two." She snatched one out of the air and grinned. "And this one's for me, meaning the other one's for you." I took the other one. It was a small jar with a picture of a snake on it, simply labeled "Poisons." On the side was a taped note, but I ignored that for now.

"Poison," I said. "That's all it says."

"Perfect," Sparkle said. "You can put it on one of your knives or something to help kill Renold. I got a perfect first aid kit. I can work on your arm Zaria! And don't worry; I'm great at first aid. I took a class in sports medicine at school; they taught me how to deal with any broken bone."

We both entered the house. I didn't bother going down to the Underground right now. There wasn't anyone after us because Renold was chasing down District Ten and there were only four people left. Sparkle had apparently brought quite a bit of her food with her, so we wouldn't need to cook. But almost immediately, she started working on my arm.

"So, I noticed on that poison can there was a note attached. I'd like to know how that got there, since that's next to impossible," she said. It was nearly impossible and normally there were few exceptions. For this, there was only one. It was if it had been a gift sent from a District to the mentor with instructions on who to give it to. Then, as long as it didn't totally smack rebellion, you were perfectly fine to send it.

"I don't know. If you're so curious why don't you read it?" I said. Sparkle's eyes lit up.

"Oh thank you! I just know this is going to be great!" she said, finishing up wrapping up my arm with pre wrap. Then she carefully took the can of poisons and snatched the note, reading it aloud.

"_To Zaria,_

_I know you probably don't know much about me yet other than what my brother's told you. I only managed to get this through because I think your mentors know my dad, but that's beside the point. _

_First off, I'd like to thank you. For helping reunite my oldest and my youngest sibling, even though it was their last moments in life. And I thank you for being with him in his final moments of life and grieving with us in his death. _

_Second, I have sent you a can of some of the deadliest poisons known to man, some from my family's aromatherapy shop, some that I suggested your mentors get through the City. Once you open the can, you'll find that everything's neatly separated. The following poisons are in it: _

_-Botulinum from Jingletown  
-Ricin  
-Cyanide  
-Strychnine  
-Amatoxin  
-Poison Hemlock _

_Finally, my parents agreed that we're still going to have a formal funeral for Marie and Charles. We all felt that because you were close enough to them that you should come too. We even asked President Snow and he said it was okay. I know it might not help you, but I just thought to let you know. _

_-Gregor Jacobson"_

I was stunned. I must have really made an impression on his family, since they're even letting me to his funeral. I looked at a camera and gave a small smile.

"Gregor, if you're listening right now then yes. If I make it through all this, I will come to his funeral. And thank you to the Jacobsons, President Snow, and the City for this gift. You don't know how wonderful these gifts are," I said. I turned back around to Sparkle. Her eyes were glassy as she tried not to cry.

"Oh my God," she said quietly. "There's something special about that family. They're angels, at the least Saints!"

"What makes you say that?" I asked.

"Well think about it. Haven't your parents ever told you the stories where you meet someone amazing and then they just suddenly disappear? Or they know they're going to die? But the entire time, they're turning heads and changing lives? And then you ask what was so special about them and your parents say they were angels," Sparkle said. I thought back. Yes, my parents had told me the occasional story like that. Most of them were during the Dark Days, back when my family lived in District Thirteen. But I had never forgotten them.

"Yes. But I don't get it. How does that make Charles and Marie angels?" I asked.

"Well, I don't know if they changed you, but I've never really had a true friend Zaria. Or the idea that someone actually _cared _for me for that matter. But little Marie, even though the Careers captured her and all hope seemed lost, she still knew that her brother would come. Over those two or three days when the Careers were holding her hostage, Renold would purposely treat me the worst. He tried to degrade me, weaken me. But Marie would always reassure me. I was pretty much her captor and she would comfort me! No normal person does that," she said, starting to work on my right arm again.

I thought about it, slowly realizing, maybe she had a point. And Charles had been really prepared to die too. I found my left arm instinctively reaching for his – no my – bandana. But was it actually possible I had at the least met a Saint?

"And Charles was determined to save his sister," I said quietly. "No matter what." I figured not many people did that, save their siblings. I've seen it every now and then, a younger brother or sister of someone who can volunteer but never does. And this was after the Reapings, when there were only seven people left. Even if Charles was entirely human, he was one of a kind.

"Don't forget who his family was," Sparkle added. "They must've changed their last name or something at some point. Didn't they say that their family was split up by the Capitol?" I nodded, almost unable to say anything.

"Well Marie's last name was Gavin. They must've changed their name at some point and then their mom change it back, since Charles's was Jacobson but their brother and sister. And the Gavin family is one of the most well known during the Dark Days," Sparkle said.

"For what?" I asked curiously. This story was almost starting to sound a little like Mathew and Monica's.

"Well, based on what I heard, there were a couple major families involved in this. The Gavins were towards the top of importance. It was towards the end of the Dark Days, when we had President Blanco instead of President Snow. Apparently that family, the Pithers/Smith family, a family named the Vips and someone else all went and assassinated President Blanco, since he didn't have anyone else to take over after him. But the problem was is that as soon as Blanco died, Snow managed to take over. And President Snow was harsher than Blanco. Everything went downhill from there," Sparkle explained.

"Well then, if Charles and Marie are angles, then Renold must be the spawn of Satan," I said. Sparkle laughed.

"I wouldn't doubt that one bit," she said, finishing up the cast. I gingerly moved my right arm, at the least to the best of my ability.

"It's an amazing cast," I said. She grinned.

"See? There was nothing to be worried about," she said.

"Yeah, thank God. And Charles really hurt Renold's leg, but he can't do anything. Didn't you see him limping?" I asked. Sparkle nodded.

"I wasn't watching, but I could tell when he was walking off. I hope you can throw with that arm, aren't you right handed?" I shook my head.

"Nope, I'm left handed. But Renold doesn't know that, or he would've probably told Denim. That's what ultimately killed him. Denim that is," I said. Sparkle nodded.

"Oh. That would make sense," she said and laughed slightly. "Kind of a paradox I guess. Everyone would think you're down and out because your right arm's broken but you're even more killer with it!" I simply smiled and looked out the window. It was getting dark out. I lay on the carpet in the house and sighed heavily, wanting to get out of the Hunger Games. I had almost no doubt in my I would win, even with Renold's skills; I could attack at a distance.

"When can this be over?" I asked. I wanted to see my friends so badly or at least the ones I would have left. This would be Devi…that might be it actually. Many of my friends were Renold's also, and they would hate me if I won, I bet. Charles and Marie were dead, and Sparkle was going to have to die if I was to win. At least District Twelve would finally have a victor. Finally.

"As soon as the spawn of Satan dies," Sparkle joked. We both laughed. I didn't want to kill Sparkle, but I knew she would commit suicide with all that poison Gregor gave me otherwise. She headed over to the window as the darkness started to envelop the streets of the false Jingletown and the couple streetlamps that were there blinked into existence.

"What do you think it's like?" she asked suddenly. "The City of the Damned?" I stared at her like I had no clue what she was talking about.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I stated.

"Yes you do," she said. I rolled my eyes.

"Fine. The City of the Damned…I don't know. A…friend of mine said it was one of the major headquarters for the rebels during the Dark Days, like District 13. And they probably had some other form of what the Capitol calls 'Christianity.' I highly doubt 'Christianity' is worshipping the Capitol and hating everyone who doesn't agree with you," I explained.

"What makes you say that?"

"If you look at the clock tower, nearby the fountain, it says _we are the stories and disciples of the…_ and then it fades off. Disciples are followers, of a sort. And normally Capitol rebels want nothing to do with the Capitol," I reasoned. "Now, come on, we need to get some sleep. Renold'll probably find that District Ten kid tomorrow, and if not the Gamemakers will want some action."

"Okay," Sparkle said with a nod and lied down on the carpeted floor. "Night Zaria."

"Night Sparkle," I said with a yawn, careful not to lay on my right side.

My sleep that night was filled with nightmares. I saw Charles's death again, but this time I was the one killing him. Shortly after I did that though, I took the poisons Gregor gave me and took them all at once, trying to kill myself. It didn't work though; it just made me paralyzed and unable to do anything. The scene changed and I was battling Renold. He was ready to kill me, but some unseen force stopped him and shot an arrow in his neck. I looked at the girl who killed him; she had black hair and olive colored skin, looking like a Seam child. But she suddenly burst into flames and turned into a mockingjay, while the fire burned on into Jingletown. I was horrified, but the girl seemed unaware of it. And the flames, although they came close to my body, never touched me. I saw someone next to me suddenly, who appeared to be…Charles? If it was, he now had huge angel-like wings. His arms were extended as if to protect me.

"Everything will be alright," the angel told me. "She is on our side." The dream ended and I woke up, my eyes wide. There had been something meaningful to those dreams, to a point at least. That girl I saw looked like no one I saw, and then the angel with the flames. But what did it mean? Revolution? Certainly not in my time, when the most we had was the son of two people who helped kill Blanco. That Charles _was _an angel? I doubt it. Or maybe…Jingletown. Jingletown had been on fire once, hadn't it? And as I was certain of, the Capitol wanted to show anyone what they could easily do to Jingletown again. I shivered at the thought. It meant one thing, when Renold and I go against each other; one of us was going down in what could be seen as both a blaze of glory or the flames of Hell.

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**Me: **Okay, now time for my question. I put up a chapter even though I'm not finished with chapter 17 (since I try and keep a couple chapters ahead of whatever I write for this story) and I have no idea for what to do with a muttation (yes I know that's giving it away, I don't care.) So if you have any ideas, you can PM me or put it in a review so my writer's block will be destroyed and I can continue writing with ease. And if you can, try and make it something that is kind of relevant to a suburban/town enviornment. I'll probably take anything except zombies because zombies are for Zombieland :)

**Ripred: **Wait no we're not done yet!

**Me: **what?

**Ripred: **Me and Mewtwo were having a fight over who would win against Chuck Norris, me or him?

**Thaila: **Chuck Norris would win, duh.

**Mewtwo ***walking in*: _No he wouldn't. I could attack him without lifting a finger._

**Ripred: **Yeah, yeah, we all know you're "all powerful." But I would win!

**Me: **Okay, just out of curiosity, do you think Ripred or Mewtwo could actually defeat Chuck Norris in a fight? If you can, only vote if you know who Ripred or Mewtwo are. And try and send me some awesome muttation creation that you aren't planning on using. But that's it. Done did!

**Ripred: **Vote for me!


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